They're crazy, the aunts

It is one of the contradictory experiences of being human that everyone thinks they are something very special and unique when they are young. Only to realise as you get older that it is precisely this belief in your own specialness that makes you ordinary.

For example, I think back to my first time as a young mum, when the world seemed completely new to me on my first walks with my daughter, who was just a few days old. There was a sudden and more or less subtle shift in my perception of myself and of course I thought it must have something to do with me.

Whilst out and about with my baby, I suddenly received a lot of empathetic attention from older ladies. Some of them hissed an enraptured «Yay, how small!» after me, or rather after my baby, and every now and then one would stop, peek briefly into my sling and sigh with relief at the sight of my newborn's mop of hair. As strange as this seemed to me on the one hand, I welcomed the enthusiasm that my baby seemed to trigger. And secretly, I thought to myself, "They're crazy, the aunties.

I must have been very stupid back then. Because today I'm one of those aunties myself. Now that my children will soon be grown up, I know the delight that even complete strangers can cause. Sometimes it's their clumsy behaviour, their cheeks reddened by the cold or their childishly questioning remarks whose charm I succumb to.

Giving such love is one of the deepest and most beautiful things you can experience as a human being.

Unlike back then, however, I now understand where this delight comes from and that it is not about the special nature of these children or about me. Rather, it is the experience of every mother. The memory of the time when your own offspring were still small, innocent and inexperienced and you were under the spell of the magic of the new. Under the spell of the many possibilities that were still waiting to become reality.

It is also a reminder of the unconditional care that was given to the children to make this possible. After all, giving such love is one of the deepest and most beautiful things you can experience as a human being.

The children eventually emancipate themselves from the constant attention. And that's fortunate. After all, the nostalgic memories of that time have little in common with the exhausting reality of those days. This is also the reason why the delight over the cute little children usually evaporates quickly as soon as you spend more time with them and have to keep them happy.

What remains is the memory of this very special phase. And the realisation that this experience does not belong to one person alone, but in a way to all of us, and that it continues in every experience of young mothers. There is something strangely comforting about this thought. Even if it makes us a little ordinary.