There are a lot of things I'll miss as the kids grow up. Somethings have already passed and other are sure to follow. Baby talk, toddling steps, onesies are all a things of the past. There are a few things that I can still hold on to.
One of things that I'll miss the most is holding hands. My heart soars each time one of my kids reaches up to grab my hand. It may just be instinct, a reaction, that we've ingrained in them. All ways hold hands crossing the street, for example. When we are in a crowd, we hold hands to keeep them near. I like to think of it, not as instinct or routine, but as them seeking protection, guidance. I hope they think, if they are holding daddy's hand then they are safe and out of harms way. If they are holding daddy's hand, no one can get them, they can't get lost.
Our current night time ritual, is that my wife rocks sunshine, while I lay down with Bug in his bed, until he goes to sleep. Last night as he was settling in, with his head laid on my shoulder, he reached across and grabbed my hand. He squeezed, I squeezed. My hand enveloping his.
One day, he'll be to big for daddy to lay down with him. He'll be to big to play army with daddy. He'll be to big to hold my hand to cross the street. I don't know how many days I have left, but I'm trying to make the most of every opportunity.