I am on the bus. My mobile phone rings. It’s my two-year-old daughter on the phone. She starts speaking and trying to explain something to me. I can’t understand almost any words. It’s still not coherent speech. The words are unclear and hard to understand. Like a bird chirping. She doesn’t stop talking. Continues tirelessly. My wife is laughing beside her. But she keeps talking with the same enthusiasm. Tirelessly.
Maybe she’s explaining to me how she played, or watched a cartoon, or telling me how much she missed me. I don’t know. I don’t understand. Will I ever know?
But I keep listening. Not because I understand. No.
I listen because it’s her. I enjoy the sound of her voice, her tone, the way she says “Daddy” so dear and so special. I listen because she’s a part of me. Part of my world. Part of my life. Part of my dreams. Part of something I call…the most beautiful part of the day. I listen…and I learn to value this time. Let it last.
Because I know it will pass quickly. Very quickly. Because no childhood lasts forever…