There's a little boy here where I live that is suffering from a rare form of brain cancer. His parents are spending their last few moments with such a small little boy just barely older than my own son.
I hate, hate, hate stories like this. It makes my whole body hurt for that family because I can imagine nothing worse than that. NOTHING. To have to say goodbye to your own child, watching him suffer. I just pray I never, ever have to do that.
But while I ache for them, I am reminded that my own two babies are healthy and happy. And that when my husband sprung the fact on me this morning that he has a business dinner, I was upset because I'd have to tackle the boys alone tonight. I am so lucky and so blessed that I have the opportunity to pick my boys and see their smiling faces. That I get to listen to Ethan's day and hear Dylan's coos. That I get to read to my three year old and spend a few minutes snuggling close to him.
And I get to appreciate the fact that I have such a wonderful opportunity because we never know what tomorrow will bring. And today, I still get to hug and kiss and hug and kiss and hug and kiss my babies.