Fleeting

Anna the other day was asking me when she would be two years old again. She was having trouble understanding the whole birthday concept. My response after listening to her try to figure it out hit me like a ton of bricks. It was so blunt. So matter-of-fact, “No, Anna, you will never be two again.” Boy, did that hit me hard!

These days are fragile. Fleeting. They slip through our fingers and are gone forever. Cherish. Every. Moment.