I have forgotten how to walk slow with you.
I have forgotten that this little moment in time,
you are small,
you are curious,
you are both living childhood.
And I rush.
I rush you through your days.
I rush you through your summer.
I rush you through mornings
and long walks
and bike rides.
I rush you through walks where you want to take it all in.
I rush you through rain falls.
I rush you through wanting to talk to me
be with me
play with me
ask me questions.
I am rushing us through your time.
Your really precious time.
It's not that I forget how fleeting this all is,
or that each day, I lose you a little more to the you that you will become.
It's that,
like all parents,
it's hard to remember how short the years are when the days are so long.
It's hard to remember after a long work day that you need us too.
It's hard for dad to remember when kids at work are at him all day
that his kids need to be with him at night.
And you keep trying to remind me.
You keep trying to take every moment in,
that's what kids do.
Without even trying, you are drinking in your moments,
your days,
your memories.
And I wonder what each of you will remember when you look back.
I remember what your most colorful memories will be.
I wonder if you will remember the yelling,
the frustrations,
the love,
the hugs,
the early morning snuggles.
I wonder if you remember how wonderful saying goodnight is,
how calming it is.
I wonder if you remember us constantly telling you to hurry up,
gather your belongings,
let's go already!
Or, if you will remember that there isn't much we do without being hand in hand.
There isn't much we can't accomplish together.
I wonder if you will remember adventure days with dad.
All the days we spent at the track,
I wonder if you will remember how much we loved,
and tried,
and adored each of you.
But, once piece of advice we all need to remember is
walk slow.
This life moves so quickly around us and it's up to us to slow it down.
It's up to us to build our memories.
It's up to us to love.
Walk slow little faces of mine.
Walk as slow as you need to.
It's not a race, it's a marathon and we will cross that line together.
I love you.
