David O'Mahony: Reaching milestones reminds me time is what you make of it

One of my sons — Twin 2, as we still call him sometimes — made his Confirmation recently; Daughter, who is seven, got it into her head that he would be gone from their school a couple of weeks after the Confirmation. Picture:iStock

Time, they say, is a funny old thing.

Nobody ever says for sure whether that’s supposed to be “funny haha” or “peculiar like an eldritch horror” but, then again, life is most colourful in the boundaries between definitions — even if the colour is increasingly being leeched from my temples.

Time is, after all, many things at once. It can be wonderful, exasperating, wasted, and sometimes a cruel bastard pummeling you with boxing gloves made of granite. This, thankfully, is not one of those tales. At least, I hope not.

Landmarks come and go, and sometimes come in battalions.

One of my sons — Twin 2, as we still call him sometimes — made his Confirmation recently (his brother, who goes to a special school with smaller numbers, made his last year).

It’s sort of the beginning of Twin 2’s last kilter through primary school, with secondary beckoning from September; Daughter, who is seven, got it into her head that he would be gone from their school a couple of weeks after the Confirmation.

Small people have their own way of interpreting the universe and, most of the time, it’s a lot more interesting than what we’ve collectively — if grudgingly — agreed constitutes adulthood.

Twin 2’s Confirmation wasn’t quite a clock-ticking moment, even if there’s the temptation to check over my shoulder to see if Terry Pratchett’s Death is leaning jauntily against the wall and waggling an empty sand timer at me. As the Terminator might say: “I’m old, not obsolete.”

Just a reminder that he’s growing up, as children somewhat stubbornly insist on doing, even when you tell them not to rush it and to enjoy being 10, 11, 12 for as long as they can. Youth is wasted on the young.

None of us are particularly religious. Indeed, when Twin 2’s cohort was asked during the ceremony if they rejected Satan and all that jazz, they forgot to answer.

To be fair, there’s nothing wrong with keeping your options open — but my son recently told his mother he quite liked the idea of reincarnation. So he’s forming his own world view, probably influenced by his voracious reading of history and, one suspects, respawning during games. He’s younger than most of his class, and greener really, but evidently has his own internal depth.

While he may be shedding the chrysalis of childhood, leaving various interests behind, he is already acquiring new ones. Still, even at 12, the suit made him look mature enough that his sister insisted he needed to get a job.

Now that he’s bought a phone with his money, bringing a whole kettle of other things for us to worry about, the ensemble is sort of complete. Easily a decade too soon, in my opinion, but such is the way of it.

His sister described her own outfit as flower fairy, and has been vocal about wanting to retire. I remind you that she’s seven.

Follow our dreams

But, by God, if you have a goal in mind then go for it. Imagine if we could all follow our dreams from such an early age. The child has much to teach us.

I’m some ways from retirement yet, but the last couple of years have brought some milestones that, somewhere in the back of my head, I probably thought were a long way off yet.

Twin 2’s Confirmation, without quite bringing an existential crisis, was one of a run of things that made me wish I, like Dorian Gray, had a portrait in the attic that took the big hits for me (although my idea of a libertine lifestyle involves copious espressos, chocolate cake, and writing).

The start of the month marked my 15th year in this particular run at this fine publication. Come June, I will mark 21 years in what’s broadly known as production journalism (for simplicity, I tend to describe it as copy editing and page design — though there’s more to it than that).

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I’m like that blinking guy meme, not quite sure where time has gone. Meanwhile, in August, Beloved Wife and I mark our 15th wedding anniversary. We sometimes joke that we should have got married sooner. While we have endured various tribulations over the past decade and a half — I’m looking at you, eternal fight with disability services — it’s been a life filled with experiences and an abundance of shared memories.

Who else can nerd out about poetry, history, and science fiction in a single sentence? Who else would be able to give me a final, gentle prod with the simple question: “How long would it take you to write a book?”

Time is what you make of it, really. As Robert Frost said: “In three words, I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: It goes on.” To that, I would add: Make the most of it.

• David O’Mahony is the Irish Examiner’s assistant editor, a short story writer, and a novelist