View From the Window

"I would have given anything to keep her little. 

They outgrow us so much faster than we outgrow them."
— Jodi Picoult

Millie and I like to sit together and look out the window. We see squirrels and birds zoom from one side to the other. We see the blades of grass shiver in the wind, and watch branches on the pine trees bend towards the ground. We like the breeze on our faces. Sometimes, we watch the sun get brighter and brighter. Other times, we watch clouds clump together and see drops of rain collect on the patio.

She sees this. Usually, I just see her.

There will always be sunny days and loud thunder. There will always be green grass. But she will only be 9 months and a handful of days old once. As quick as the storm clears and the sun shines again, she'll look differently. She'll begin to grasp that words have meanings, and any day now, she'll begin to use them. She'll crawl, then walk, then run. In what will seem like only a few heartbeats, she'll be riding a tricycle out in that sunshine.

We like to sit together.

She looks out the window at the great world outside, and thinks about flowers.

I look at her tiny shoulders, her peach fuzz hair, and think about time.