Today my older daughter ran laps for the arts. She had a handful of sponsors and for 30 minutes she ran. She looked like a marathon runner, her long, thin legs stretched out as she put her heart and soul into her task. I was so proud watching her.
Afterward, I went to find her. There she stood all alone, looking as if she were contemplating the meaning of life.
"Hey, are you okay?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"You did great out there."
"Thanks."
"Are you sure you're okay? You're being awfully quiet."
"I'm fine."
She's so young. 7 years old. She's always seemed older than her years and I expect so much of her, but she's still my baby. Every once in a while she'll crawl up in my lap and just want me to hold her and I get a little teary. Childhood passes so quickly and soon she'll be racing off toward the rest of her life without me. It's at these times that I just want to stop time and let her know how very special she is.
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