I’ve only got six summers left with my son
Do you remember summer holidays as a kid? Long, sunny days spent outside. Cold drinks gulped down. Family holidays and adventures with mum and dad.
My son’s nine. I know from speaking to other dads, and my own childhood memories, that when he hits 15 he’s going to want to spend more time with mates than mum and dad. We’re going to have a chat when he plucks up the courage to say he doesn’t want to come on holiday with us. He’d rather spend the time with his friends.
That’s only six summer holidays.
Six summer holidays to fill with adventure, with hot days spent together having great conversations, playing games and laying down memories that will last a lifetime for both of us. It makes me sad to think about it, but glad that I have. Now I can decide how to make the most of that time. How to make those memories the ones that create that warm glow of love when he, and me, choose to return to them.
Shane Parrish likened this way of thinking as the sword of Damocles hanging over him. He’s got fewer golden years left. He’s separated from their mother, so they spend half their time with her and half with him.
It hangs over all of us, because there’s a last time for everything. When you have children in your life, that last time is even more precious because you can get so sucked into the day to day. Ferris Bueller said it best.