I stand by my earlier assertion: time moves slowly or quickly depending on our mood. How is it that 17 days could pass in what felt like just 17 minutes? 

My elder son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter were visiting India, though my grandson couldn’t make it due to work commitments. Their trip was packed from the start. Within two days of their arrival, we took off for our Swamimalai trip. Three days after returning, my son had to work from home during the nights while time flew by in a blur. Then, they left for another trip with my daughter-in-law’s family, only to return four days later to continue the same whirlwind routine—working at night, catching up on sleep, meeting relatives, shopping for things unique to India, and taking us out for meals. Before we knew it, it was time for them to leave again. 

Despite our visits to the U.S., we see them only about once a year. Children grow up so fast, and we miss them every second they’re not with us. At least during our visits, we get to spend quality time together. But when they visit India, it’s more like a flash of lightning—here one moment, gone the next. 

Between unavoidable meetings with friends and relatives, city travel, and night-time work, there’s little time left for anything else. I look back and wonder how much time we actually got to spend together—maybe three days, and even then, we were surrounded by people. Exclusive time was hard to come by. 

But that’s life, isn’t it? We all have our routines and commitments, and we make the best of the time we get. The anticipation of their visit keeps us energized. “Oh! They’ll be here for more than two weeks—we’ll have such a good time,” we think. But when it’s over, what’s left is a silent, heart-wrenching feeling: Couldn’t they have stayed just a little longer? 

Still, the energy, joy, and peace they bring with them lingers in every corner of the house for as long as they’re here. That immense happiness is beyond measure, and it sustains us until the next time we meet. 

Contd. 332. No One Grows Up - Bonds, Moms, and Dads