A Few More Augusts

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Shoe shopping

Shoe shopping with my two little boys has always felt like a chaotic adventure, one I inevitably postpone until the final week before school starts. Persuading them to try on shoes requires a lot of bargaining. And when they finally do, they express their discontent loudly—shoes are either too big, too small, too tight, or the tags irritate them.

This past August was no exception. My eldest, Max, was set on gray shoes, while my youngest, Oliver, had his heart set on blue, light-up sneakers. As we searched for their sizes, it hit me that Max had outgrown youth sizes entirely. The kindly saleswoman looked at me with sympathy and remarked, “Mom, I think he’s in men’s sizes now.” Max’s face lit up, while I fought back tears, grappling with the bittersweet realization of how quickly he was growing up.

Later that night, as I tucked him in with his favorite blanket, I reflected on the challenging journey of shoe shopping we had shared. Max didn’t speak until he was four, and our suspicions about his development were confirmed with an autism diagnosis. I spent countless hours driving him to various therapies, desperately hoping for a breakthrough. Progress felt minuscule, like a grain of sand among endless shores.

Determined to reach the next goal, I often told myself, “If I can just get him there.” The chaos multiplied when Oliver was also diagnosed with autism, doubling my worries and aspirations. However, those tiny victories began to accumulate. Max eventually learned to communicate and was placed in a gifted classroom. As life settled into a semblance of normalcy, I found myself wrestling with regret. I had been so focused on milestones that I missed the extraordinary moments unfolding right before me.

Once Max learned to speak, the hours spent in the car for therapy faded from memory, replaced by trips to tennis and track practice. This became our new normal, and life has a way of moving forward, flipping the hourglass of time.

Fast forward eight months into the school year, and Max informed me his shoes were too small. I glanced at the gray sneakers he had so carefully chosen and noticed holes forming where his toes pressed against the fabric. A few nights later, it was just the two of us at the shoe store. He picked out a few styles he liked, and I grabbed boxes of the next size up.

To my surprise, he struggled to put them on. We weren’t just dipping our toes into men’s sizes; we were diving headfirst into three sizes up. Sitting on the bench surrounded by Nike, Asics, and Mizuno, I realized he was no longer my little boy who struggled to communicate but a confident young man with feet larger than mine.

As we walked to the checkout, Max chatted excitedly about who knows what, while my mind swirled with a mix of pride and nostalgia. The cashier exclaimed, “Oh! Big boy shoes!” Max beamed, and I fought tears again, feeling the sands of time shift beneath me, a poignant reminder of how quickly he was growing up.

When did this all happen? Was it last month, last year, or last August when we were just starting to explore men’s sizes? Did it begin when we applied to middle school, which would lead to high school and then college? I’ve read countless articles about mindful parenting and tried to savor every moment, yet the more I strive to slow down time, the faster it seems to slip away.

I often replay the movie of Max’s life in my head, but there are vast gaps I can’t remember. The everyday moments I cherish seem so elusive, overwhelmed by emotions that I’m not ready to confront. This journey is undeniably bittersweet; my heart fills with pride, yet it feels shattered like grains of sand scattered across the shore—impossible to reassemble.

For now, I’ll continue to tuck him in with his favorite blanket, grateful for the few more Augusts we have together, knowing we still have vast beaches ahead to explore.

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Summary:

In this heartfelt reflection, Lila shares her experiences with her two boys, Max and Oliver, as they navigate the challenges of shoe shopping and the bittersweet nature of watching them grow. From the early days of therapy for autism to the recent realization of Max’s growth into young adulthood, she emphasizes the importance of cherishing every moment amidst the chaos of parenthood. The narrative serves as a poignant reminder to appreciate the journey while preparing for the future.

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