I want to share something important. Imagine a great grand-mother. Wheelchair. Life's withers and cracks mark her skin. Eye's so wise it truly silences you when she speaks. Hair so fair and thin it's as if each time the wind rakes through it it takes another strand simply trying to prolong her essence to this earth. She's witnessing her great grand-child born. And it's utter joy. Happiness contained in such a small, fragile, portion. She got to live up to this birth moment.
But she knows.
She knows she won't reach to see it grown and to it's end. She absolutely loves and dwells in this moment. She holds that happiness to her chest as she begins to mourn.
Because she knows.
She won't see it to it's full potential, this happiness won't surpass it's temporary time. The possibilities are amazing but empty nonetheless because she won't reach to see. What could have yet become. Happiness turned to ambition, strength, a future, and real love. She has a heavy feeling in her heart like she's missed out on something.
A small existence so innocent, absolutely pure
And yet she knows
She knows that to not get to see it grow it's as if she hadn't even lived to see when that moment of birth first occurred.