Grieving The Loss of The Childhood I Never Had
My students are teaching me how to experience childhood for the first time.
Sometimes I feel like I’m not a grown-up. The dictionary says that “an adult is someone who is fully grown or developed.”
I realized this feeling when I got to spend time with little kids. I finished my medical residency recently and finally got a break after working non-stop for seven years in a busy hospital in the capital. As a doctor, I had to see a lot of patients every day. I was under continuous pressure of documenting the same things simultaneously in both electronic medical records and files in writing, completing that documentation in time, listening to patients’ concerns all day, the extensive counseling required in oncology, and taking care of the in-patients being on calls. I kept working even when I was hungry or sleepless.
I did not get time to offer prayers. I had to hold my pee for hours as I had to see a lot of patients in a limited time. I could never avail any leaves, and never got a chance to make mistakes. Finally, after residency, I thought of teaching little kids. I am not in that crazy world anymore. I can breathe now.
It occurred to me that I’d never giggled like these kids. I am slowly recalling small details of my childhood. Recently, I visited a fair on the outskirts of my city with these children. I can remember how happy I felt when I went to that place in my childhood.
I never played with toys as a young child. I visited a toy shop with kids and spent hours touching and thoroughly examining each toy. I even forgot about my students who were roaming all around the shop. I was amazed at the variety of toys available now. I wanted to forget everything and play there for the whole day. I envy my students who can play for hours.
I keep on thinking what is happening to me? I am 31 and I still don’t feel like an adult. I want to jump in puddles. I want to keep playing on the swings for hours. I want to get soaked in the rain. I am trying to smell the scent of every flower on the way to my home these days. I feel as if I am seeing them for the very first time. I want to make sand castles, I want to make mud houses. I want to blow bubbles. I want to count stars. I want to trace shapes in the clouds. I want to live carefreely in the present like these kids.
It’s spring. There are flowers everywhere in my city. When I was a child, I never plucked any flowers. I thought they would die if we plucked them. I thought flowers looked good on plants only. But I had never thought about the happiness of making a bouquet and garlands from those flowers. So now whenever a child comes to me and asks me: “Can I get that flower?” I happily pluck flowers for him. I have realized that these flowers are not more precious than the smile and the happiness of the kid who wants them.
A wise person in my life has a theory about this. She says that I had locked myself behind closed doors, for the past thirty years. I was the eldest daughter and a highly responsible child from the beginning. One advantage of this was that I acquired many life skills at an early age. However, I missed out on many experiences that were considered necessary for children my age. When I reflect on my life right now I sometimes feel surprised by my independence, but also grieve the loss of my childhood due to my circumstances that never allowed me to be a child.
I was busy taking care of other children and adults around me. I hardly felt like a child during my childhood. I never allowed that little child to come out. I kept her locked for a very long time. I never realized that I snatched that precious childhood from her. I was busy achieving all those milestones in my head that I wanted to. The passion of becoming a successful physician kept me so occupied all those years, that I forgot about neglecting that child. After many years, when I got time for myself, suddenly those doors opened and I allowed myself to do everything I liked and wished to do all those years, that child also felt free. That child is also experiencing his childhood for the very first time.
I know that this is just a phase. After some days, I would start missing the part of that mystery solving, the intriguing cases, the gratification of seeing my satisfied patients, my art of making them completely understand the medical terminologies in simple words, gaining their trust, the magical moments of connection, the sharing of secrets, their expression of fear, providing them the support and hope they deserve, the bonding between the physician and the patient and the joy of giving them the kindness and care they will remember for the rest of their lives.
I know after a few months when I would start practicing medicine again as an attending, I would start playing that “Doctor, doctor” again. But I want to enjoy this time to the fullest. From now on, It doesn’t matter whether I am working in any capacity, I will certainly consider the desires of that child inside me. I don’t want to keep him sad forever. “It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.”
