Finite.

7.31.22

Sweet girl, right now you are sick and its the most heartbreaking thing to see. I just laid you beside me to nap. Hoping that you are comfortable and getting air through your little stuffy nose. As your cuddled beside me with a soft but firm grasp on my arm, I can't help but look at you and take in all the wonders that you are. My first thought draws on the word finite for some reason.

Finite: having definite or definable limits.

I only have a finite amount of time.

To take in all your wonders.

Before your hands aren't so little anymore.

And your little body can fit cuddled against mine.

To feel your little toes touching my skin.

Every flinch you make as you lay there.

Hearing every breath you take.

This won't last forever.

These days are finite.

And I'm going to miss them.