It’s not always about big moments https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Life or obvious reasons. Sometimes, even on complete days, there’s a quiet gap that lingers. It doesn’t dominate your thoughts or alter the day, but it sits in the background, making its presence known in a subtle way. Welcome to “Between Where I Am And Where They Are : Trying To Hold Both Lives Together”.

Nothing about the day stands out. It goes on like any other, with familiar patterns and expected moments. And yet, there’s a part of it that doesn’t fully settle. Not enough to question, not enough to explain, but enough to feel like something is just slightly missing.

To know the deets of our presence matters with the heartache of being away, click on Our Presence Matters : Heartache Of Being Away – Wander, Feast & Thrive

trying to hold both lives together : between where i am and where they are

Growing up gently guides us towards independence. We gradually learn to care for ourselves, make decisions with courage, and navigate our lives without constantly needing validation. In this journey, we strive to construct a life that feels whole and secure, as if we’ve finally arrived at the place we were always meant to be.

But somewhere along the way, that doesn’t really change one thing. The part of us that still wants our parents close doesn’t leave with age. It doesn’t fade out as responsibilities grow or as independence becomes a routine. It simply becomes quieter, learning to stay in the background without asking for attention. It’s not loud enough to interrupt our life, but it’s steady enough to remain.

There are moments when this appears unexpectedly, not during anything important or emotional, but often in the midst of an ordinary day. Whether eating, working, or sitting with our thoughts, it surfaces — a brief, unspoken wish for their nearby presence, not out of need or because something is wrong, but because their presence signifies something beyond words.

During festive days, the absence feels more defined, almost like it has a place of its own. Traditions continue and rituals are followed, while we recreate what we can and move with the day’s rhythm. Yet, the feeling doesn’t fully align with the moment, as there’s a quiet awareness that something familiar is unfolding elsewhere, in a space we associate with them, leaving us slightly apart from that center.

and still life gently continues despite that longing : trying to hold both lives together

And still, life gently continues despite that longing. It doesn’t wait for us to catch our breath before we move on. We reach out, listen to their voices, and share little snippets of our day, and for a fleeting moment, it feels intimately connected. Yet, when the call ends, we find ourselves back in our daily rhythm. It’s not merely about mending the distance; it’s about embracing it and carrying it with us, ensuring that it doesn’t overshadow the beauty of our lives.

Maybe that’s what this truly is. It’s not simply a sign of reluctance to grow up, but rather a cherished part of us that doesn’t need to transform. Our desire for our parents to be close, even now, doesn’t diminish the life we’ve created or the individuals we’ve grown into. Instead, it exists harmoniously alongside everything else, quietly and consistently, never seeking validation.

And maybe that’s what it’s all about—juggling both sides of life. It’s about pushing ahead while still keeping a piece of what’s familiar from our past. We can carve out our own path without losing touch with that little bit of us that still looks back, without making it something that feels like it has to be justified or left behind. Because honestly, some things aren’t meant to be ditched just because life keeps moving forward.