Holding Them with Open Hands
Not long after our firstborn came into this world, I sat on our sofa in the lounge, gazing at the precious face of our son. As I sat there, I thought about how good God had been to us by entrusting us with Ruan and thanked Him for this sweet blessing. Deon walked in shortly after and, noticing I was deep in thought, asked what I’d been thinking about. I told him, and he agreed, but then what he said next sent me into a wave of emotions: “Just think, in 18 years, he’ll be a grown man and ready to leave home!” That comment did not sit well with me at all. I burst into tears. I had only just met this tiny human, barely figured out which cry meant “I’m hungry” and which meant “I just feel like being dramatic,” and now my husband was fast-forwarding to him packing up and leaving? The thought—well, to be honest—absolutely frightened me. I suddenly realised how quickly the years could fly by, and I was nowhere near ready to share my baby with the futur...
