Four Generations

Wasn't it just last week I brought Jenny home? And just yesterday that she brought Alicia home? And now, Alicia has brought Alaina home. Where has the time gone? It's a blur in slow motion, a slow breath released too quickly, a stroll at blinding speed. A blink. . . . a yawn . . . . a sigh. It's the memory of her soft breath, her soft skin, her tiny body smelling of baby lotion, baby kisses and yawns. It was yesterday. It was forever ago. It's tomorrow that's already knocking. It's past, present and future so meshed together that it's hard to distinguish one from the other. It's a happy sadness. It's too real to be true, but too true to grasp. It's life moving behind me, in front of me and beside me. It is emotion raw and untapped, love contained and overflowing. It's holding on while letting go, looking back while moving forward. It is amazingly unpredictable. It is fear and courage in an unexplainable way. It is four generations.
It. Is. Life.