When my middle son was a baby, I remember sometimes holding him in the middle of the night to help him get back to sleep.
I’d be watching some infomercial or other early morning TV offering and every so often glance down. When I did, I’d notice his tiny hands with their tiny wrinkles and even tinier fingernails. Perfect.
But, soon, I’d look back up to see that, if I ordered right then, I could get TWO of whatever was being sold AND they’d throw in a complimentary THIRD one for free! But I’d better hurry because operators were standing by.
Recently, my son, now grown, moved away for his first corporate job out of college. I couldn’t be more proud of him. I don’t think I would have been courageous enough to do it as his age.
But, now, I’d give anything to have back one of those nights and one of those moments. To look down instead of up. To see his little hands.
They say it goes fast.
They didn’t lie.
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