Can you be nostalgic for a moment you are currently living? Even a series of events that you despise and love, simultaneously? Our kid is home sick, day three, with their… 5th-ish cold of the school year. It’s a lot, and yet I know one day I’ll look back on these sick days with a longing for a time I can’t bring back. A time when our little kid needs and wants their parents to help them wipe their nose, bringing them medicine on a schedule, followed by warm tea in a flavor of their choosing, with a spoonful of honey big enough to make them smile through the congestion and coughing.

The National is playing on the speakers, while the outside morning air is thick with fog. We’re sitting in the lounge and the song, Weird Goodbyes, grabs at my heart in a way that makes me gasp for air. Parenthood is a trip in so many ways; one mind-bending leg of the journey is just how much you can love another human. The love moves beyond nurturing, in to an area that borders manic psychosis for the wellbeing of your child(ren). All of those emotions flow through while parents also hold in their hands, the generational truth that is knowing the ultimate end result of the gig that is parenting: to release your kid so they can fly freer as they age. That wild, free-flying abandon hopefully culminates in a final leap from your familial nest. Up and out they soar, with rugged determination, in to the mesmerizing world beyond your four walls. Your kid(s) will continue to explore and learn, now of their own volition.

Monday we watched a few movies and built forts. Tuesday we made fresh soft pretzels and constructed a Magna-Tile village that was on an imaginary planet, far away from Earth, for a troop of lego explorers. Today there has been talk of baking cookies and crafting paper zombies for Halloween decorations. I know sick days aren’t just about making shitty-days fun. But I can recall, with acute clarity, the little, golden dragon bell my Mom used to give me when I was home sick as a kid. We were to get as much rest in bed as possible, and we could ring the bell when we needed her help. The ding-a-ling-a-ling still rings in my ears, and I can feel the cold heft of the forged metal in my hands. I remember that even as the bell was still vibrating from use, my bedroom door would be opened, and my Mom would enter with: bowls of homemade chicken noodle soup, warm tea, or maybe an ice-cold glass of Sprite to soothe my lil’tummy. I know now this was likely so she could keep us contained a bit, and get some work done from home. I’m certain our illness threw a massive wrench in her work day. But, I only knew the bell as a special item we got to use on days when going to school was not in the cards, and that with it came many ways in which a parent showed their love for their child.

I want similar warm memories for our kid, too. I want them to recall sick days at home with Moms as being full of love, warmth, soothing liquids and steamy midday eucalyptus-scented showers. There is something so tender and vulnerable about a kid who is feeling under the weather. While I’d never wish illness, however common or rare on anyone, I begrudgingly cherish these “extra” sick days spent together at home.

Now, pass me the elderberry supplements please; let’s try and keep this family health train on the straight and narrow going forward, shall we?!