At 5:15am this morning I was not on my way to work out.

I was rocking my two year old daughter to sleep with tears rolling down my face.

Short thread:

After such a strong start to the week, I was frustrated that this would be the second morning in a row I’d miss. My youngest 2.0 isn’t a great sleeper, so sometimes we have to work to keep her asleep all night. And sometimes it happens right when I need to leave.

After I had gotten her a drink, I laid her head on my chest and we sat down on the rocker. She never woke all the way up, but this was the second time I had to help her in the past couple of hours, so I just settled in to rocking and let my mind wander.

I imagined that I was on my death bed. My two daughters, now grandmothers, were at my side holding my hands. I told them I would give anything to go back to when they were little.
Then I put myself back into the present moment and saw it as if I’d actually been given that chance.

As we rocked, I could feel my daughter’s quick, tiny heartbeat through my hand on her back. Her fuzzy-haired head was warm against my face. If my future self had a chance to live in this moment, would he not savor every second? He would and I should.

I have my whole life to get stronger and more disciplined, to perfect a morning routine. But being a dad to two little girls is a privilege that will not last long. I pray to God I don’t let it pass me by.