Salad Days

I read a post this morning on a message board maintained by my friend Wanda. She recounted the day this weekend she and her main man Gregg devoted to their combined children. All day they shared their time and entertained their children. They were tired at the end of the day, but it was a good tired. Wanda closed her post by saying that these were "salad days" for her.

I posted back and agreed. Then I went on to tell her of my "salad days" and how I came to realize when they were.

I had a disturbing dream when my boys were little, in which I was walking my older son into his elementary school. He was nine at the time, and in my dream, I looked at him and with shock realized we were eye-to-eye. He was grown up. I had such a feeling of loss and vanished years I woke up. I got up and walked into the boys' room and stood there listening to them breathe. I did that often in those years. I felt better.

The really good news is that all days are salad days. Just different. Even in the chaos and upsets of adolescence, seeing your children change into adults has something wonderful every day. My boys are men now, and I know now that these are still the salad days, for sure. They are all salad days.

I was just not wise enough to realize that fact when I woke up from the dream back when my elder son was nine.