The other evening we took the girls to the park. Spring is finally settling in here in blustery WY, and they could hardly wait for the first chance to get out (make that we, their parents were chomping at the bit too). The evening did not disappoint, it was gorgeous! They ate their dinner in haste, then hit the playground. And it hit me...

The memories, it seems only yesterday, I was in their shoes. Skipping through the daisies, running in the wind; chasing kites, brothers, and anything else that offered adventure. Where does time go? And where does that carefree run go? Somewhere in the adjustments to adulthood, leaving behind childhood and picking up that cloak of maturity, the spirit gets lost. I suppose that's the way it's meant to be, but I don't hesitate to admit, I miss it.

Somehow, I find it again, from time to time. I'm able to grasp that joy that is free from responsibility, if only for a moment. I may not have the carefree skip and sparkle of a three year old today, but I hope I never loose the ability to live for little joys. I don't run in total abandon down the sidewalk anymore, but I sure delight in every memory of when I did, and I don't want to rush the cares that weigh on me onto my little ones. It will come soon enough.