Blink

To a lifetime of beauty, watching you become who you are.

One minute, I’ve got you wrapped so tight in that swaddle, tucked in maybe a little too snug because somewhere over these past nine months, I read that’s what newborns like.

You’ve got Mama’s eyes, and those curls are all mine, and I could sit with you in this uncomfortable chair for the rest of my days.

But then I blink, and we’re singing Happy Birthday!

The smash cake was perfectly named, and as you practice your newfound steps, your secure grip around my finger leaves an indent that I’m not sure will ever go away.

And then I blink, and you’re on a bike!

Peddling faster and faster, like, wait, how fast do these things go?

You’re determined and eager, ready to pedal away, but I’m not sure I’m prepared to let you ride off just yet.

And then I blink, and I’m at the kitchen table, doing homework beside you, curious how much I can even help.

I don’t remember this equation or even the grammar rules a writer should know, but still, we work together, figure it out, and as you put away your work in the cutest little backpack…

I blink, and you’re a teenager, and every night is filled with events or headphones.

Your depiction of your days is a bit more brief than I remember, but I don’t need you to fill in a word count; I absolutely adore watching you become the person you are, and I wholeheartedly believe in the person you are surely becoming.

But then I blink, and your cap and gown are ready.

I’m in the parking lot, struggling with my emotions but also struggling to find a spot, and graduation plans are moving far quicker than I can keep up.

They call your name, and your cheering section screams in adoration as you look up to say, “Dad, we did it.”

I’m so proud to have grown up with the person walking across that stage, as a rush of memories hits me with every step you take.

And then I blink, and the child I’ve loved since inception is transported back to their first room, back to the rocking chair, back to the swaddle, and back into my arms.

I blinked, and a lifetime of joy, tears, loss, and life seemed to have occurred all at once.

There’s no need to go back, as a rewind robs you of the future you very much deserve.

One where you can travel, seek purpose, and search for the galaxy-sized love that I have found in your eyes.

My baby, forever, my love for you knows no bounds, just as real as the grip still indented on my finger.