On the last day of our holiday to Bluestone last week Rhys woke up sad.
He was almost in tears, telling me he didn’t want to go home. He had enjoyed the holiday so much, he just wasn’t ready to leave.
And it brought back memories of how I used to feel every summer when we would pack up our car at the end of our holiday in France, and slowly drive off the campsite.
It was always so sad. But in a strangely happy way. I know that doesn’t make much sense at all, but I have a real mixture of emotions when I think about those endings now.
It’s just bittersweet.
I think part of what makes some things so special is the fact that they don’t last very long.
Holidays are amazing, and it does tend to be sad when we have to leave and come home, but it’s the very fact that they’re short lived that makes them so precious to us.
It’s the same with things in nature.
I absolutely love when the trees burst into life in the springtime, the cheerful pink blossom set against a bright blue sky is just a gorgeous sight. And it’s all the more special because it doesn’t last long.
It’s all a matter of perspective I suppose.
Realising how precious those fleeting moments are, and being thankful for them rather than just being sad that they’re gone.
Winnie the Pooh had it right I think when he said, “”How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard”.