It’s after 11pm and I’m sitting down late to write tonight.
My wife and I spent more of the day passing our sick infant back and forth between work meetings on Zoom. Sometimes, the sick baby attended the meeting as well.
Then I had a work dinner, which was quite lovely.
And now after a late-night run to two stores to pick up nasal drops, here we are.
So it goes.
At least he was still awake when I got home from the work dinner, so I got to hold him for a little bit longer today, snotty face and all.
One day that will come far too soon, he won’t want me to hold him, even when he is feeling bad.
As I sat there with him snuffling and snarkeling into my shoulder, I only wished I could take away his discomfort.
I wished I could wipe his poor, sore nose and make everything better.
And I thought about what I’d tell him when the real problems arise in life.
About what I’ll tell him when he scrapes his knee learning to ride a bike. About what I’ll tell him when he can’t stay up late to watch scary movies.
About what I’ll tell him when someone breaks his heart. About what I’ll tell him when he tries his best and comes up short anyway. About what I’ll tell him before I depart this world someday and leave him.
And in that moment, I felt serenity as I remembered what really makes the measure of our days:
Enjoy every moment you have with the people you love.