What if you knew it was the last time?

The last time you read your child a book,

the last time you put him behind  you when you rode the bicycle and he held you tight,

the last time you told him to be careful before he used his bike,

the last time you told him to do his homework,

the last time you helped him solve a math problem,

the last time you dressed him,

The last time he cried from a small scratch and you made him smile,

the last time he slept with you on the same bed,

the last time he needed help in the restroom,

the last time you helped him shower,

the last time he jumped on your back,

the last time he looked for your hand to cross the road,

the last time you bought him a kids book,

the last time he believed you when you said you had a camera that would watch him at school,

the last time you told him you would protect him and he believed you,

the last time you went hand in hand to the school door, the last time he turned to say he loves you, the last time he held you tight and didn’t want you to leave,

the last time he wasn’t embarrassed when you kissed him in front of his friends,

the last time you joined him for a school lunch,

the last time you put him on your shoulders,

the last time you wiped his mouth after ice cream,

the last time he asked for permission to do something,

the last time he asked if we could go to the park,

the last time you took him to the slide,

the last time he brought home a stone he found,

the last time you sat on a bench in the park and saw him playing with kids,

the last time he wore his monkey pajamas,

the last time he waited outside the house door so you would open with the key,

the last time you let him win a game against you,

the last time you had to run slow so he would win in a running competition,

the last time he sat in a booster seat,

the last time he rode you like a horse,

the last time he held on to you in the swimming pool,

the last time he played “Daddy’s the big monster” with you,

the last time you took him to the barber,

the last time he hid under the blanket and believed you couldn’t find him,

the last time you couldn’t leave him home alone,

the last time he had a babysitter,

the last time you told him to eat all the food from his plate,

the last time you put him on your lap in the morning,

the last time you took him to the zoo,

the last time you held him in your hands,

the last time you decided what he watched on TV,

the last time he came to visit you at work and felt proud,

the last time he asked you the meaning of a word,

the last time he was too short to take a ride on the Luna Park train,

the last time he was sure you had the answer to every question,

the last time he didn’t know the burger on his plate was once a cow,

the last time you told him the car can fly and he believed you,

the last time you came to pick him up from school and he ran into your hands like he didn’t expect to see you again,

the last time he thought there were no wars,

the last time you changed stations on the car radio so he wouldn’t hear the bad news,

the last time you told him to go to sleep because it’s after bed time,

the last time he told you he is afraid of the dark,

the last time you hugged him really tight before he went to sleep,

the last time you leaned over his forehead and kissed him softly.

 

What if you knew it was the last time?

 

 

 

I miss my little kids

I miss them fighting for me to sleep on their side of the bed,

I miss them holding me in the swimming pool like I am everything in their world,

I miss them running at me when I come to pick them up from the daycare like it’s the first time they see me in their lives,

I miss them insisting that I will hold them in my hands since they are too tired to walk,

I miss them holding me so tight when we walk on the street that my hand hurt,

I miss them saying “This is my dad” to their friends at kindergarten when I come for lunch,

I miss the time I could let them win the games without them even noticing it,

I miss the time I could play with them in the car pretending it is a spaceship and I have a button which makes it fly, about to press it, and they actually wait for something to happen,

I miss the time they jumped on my back and it felt like a cat,

I miss the time I asked them “who is your best friend in the world?” and they said “you”,

I miss the time I played superman with them, ran to the bathroom, and they believed me when I said I flew outside and came back from the drain,

I miss the time they hide under my blanket and they were sure I had no idea where they were,

I miss the time I told them “everything is OK, daddy is here” and they actually believed me,

I miss the time I could put on them their pajamas two sizes smaller and they didn’t even notice it,

I miss the time they wanted me to read them ten books before they go to sleep and they were mad at me because I got tired after the sixth one,

I miss the time they needed me to go with them to the restroom and had to announce it so I will take them,

I miss the time they kicked me and punched me and it didn’t hurt,

I miss the time I was running faster than they did and had to slow down to let them win,

I miss the time we walked and got to a traffic light and a small hand reached to my hand like there is no other way to pass,

I miss the time we played soccer and they were running around the ball since they had no idea what to do,

I miss the time they said “yesterday” and meant “three years ago”,

I miss the time they gave me a hug and it didn’t feel like they were in a hurry,

I miss the time they thought water is the only drink in the world,

I miss the time I explained simple things about the world and they would be excited like we just landed on the moon,

I miss the time I was waiting to take them to new places knowing I was actually opening the world in front of their eyes,

I miss the time we played hide and seek and they really thought I had no idea where they were,

I miss the time they were never tired and were eager to stay awake and learn new things about the world, until their eyes said “enough”,

I miss the time I played board games with them and they didn’t feel as though something better was waiting behind the door,

I miss the time I was proud to swim fast in the swimming pool so they would be impressed,

I miss the time I told them “today we are going to the park” and they just said “yay” and hurried to the door,

I miss the time they told me they don’t want me to get old,

I miss the time they were impressed by every small toy I bought,

I miss the time they were innocent, the time they needed me, the time their small hearts and bodies were still part of me,

I miss my little kids.