‘That it will never come again
Is what makes life so sweet…’

Emily Dickinson

I am getting greedy.

Greedily, ravenously, urgently, I am attempting to soak up and bottle every newborn moment with Hayes.  He came early and I am thrilled about it – three extra days to spend with his strangely fuzzy head and pointy little nose.

A first child is a bewildering wonder: an adventure and a mystery.  He is glory because he is new.  A second child is a heart-breaking miracle, a treasure mindful of time.  He is precious because his parents have learned the meaning of cherish.

I am terrified that in a blinking moment Hayes and Knox will be in elementary school, driving, graduated, gone.

Stop, time.


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