I'm 80 years old and somehow I woke up in my 38 year old body just for one day.

 

I wake up to little hands tugging at the blankets.
I blink. I sit up slowly.
My babies, they're small again.
I gasp. I cry.

They climb into bed, giggling, wiggling.
I used to rush through mornings, but not today.
I pull them close. I hug them tight.
I kiss their messy hair.
I hold their little hands.
And this time I soak in every second.

I catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
No deep lines. No grey hair.
My younger face.
I used to think I looked old at 38.
What a silly thought.

I stare for a moment and think, you are so beautiful.

I find my husband in the kitchen making coffee.
He looks strong and young.
I wrap my arms around him so tightly.
And he looks surprised.
Maybe we didn't hug enough back then, I think.

We talk about the day.
Nothing big.
But today it all feels big.
I memorise the sound of his voice.

We pile into the car.
Kids arguing over seatbelts.
Someone drops a snack.
Crumbs everywhere.

And I used to get so frustrated.
But I soak in the noise.
The chaos.
I know my car will be quiet and spotless for many years to come.
But I'll miss the mess.
I will miss this mess.

Dinner is loud and unorganised.
No one wants to sit still.
There's shouting, giggling, a little arguing and so much life.
I don't clean up right away.
I just sit and watch, trying to burn it all into my memory.

And before bed, I pick up the phone.
I call my mum and I hear her voice.
Mum. Mum. Mum.
I haven't heard this voice in so many years.
I close my eyes and let her words wash over me.
And I tell her I love her again and again.
And I never want to hang up.
And this time I don't leave anything unsaid.

At bedtime, I don't skip pages in the story.
Not tonight.
I read every single word.
And then I ask, can we read one more book?
And they say yes.
I don't want this day to end.

I got one more day.
And this time I knew.
This was joy.
This was love.
Those little hands.
The loud, messy dinners.
Our strong young bodies with no aches or pains.
Our parents who were still alive.

It all mattered so much more than we ever realised.

Credit: Thank you to Lise and Sarah for sharing this beautiful poem.