The Fingerprints

My buddy and me nine years ago tomorrow.

In a house we used to live in, we had a TV mounted on the wall over the fireplace. When my oldest son was tall enough, he started reaching for the TV to try and touch it. Eventually he was tall enough to reach the button to turn it off. Over the next several years I watched little finger prints creep their way up that TV (We probably didn’t clean it as much as we should have) — a visible reminder that my kids are growing up.

He turned 9 today and I have no clue what happened to the last almost decade. No clue. Whether it’s work, school, parenting, or a variety of other things, I often catch myself trying to fast forward to the next, more desirable moment — skipping the present. I’m working to squash that line of thought.

As I watch the fingerprints continue to make their way up the TV, I’m reminded that the future will be here faster than we realize, and whether we like it or not. It’s for that reason that I’m going to linger longer in the present, even those boring, tired, and contentious moments. I’m so thankful for those fingerprints.

Happy Birthday, Buddy!