I still find myself waiting for the walrus. I still gloss over the ordinary by default. I’m still plagued by the fear I struggled with so often back then—the fear that I don’t have enough time to give my children all that they need, that I’m missing my chance to do what matters most. I feel endlessly distracted by all the other parts of raising kids, and I wonder if, twenty years from now, I’ll look back and want to shake myself awake to say, “Pay attention! You’re missing this and it’s right in front of you!”
