In the Blink of an Eye

He meets her. She meets him.
A shy glance. A soft hello.
Two strangers standing close enough
to feel possibility warming the air.

He likes her. She likes him.
Like turns into love—the kind built from long talks,
shared meals,
and the comfort of being seen.
Love turns into marriage,
a promise made with trembling hands
and hopeful hearts.

In the blink of an eye,
you’re born—tiny fingers curling around theirs,
anchoring them to a future
they didn’t know they were ready for.

First words. First steps.
The wobble, the fall, the laughter.
First day of school—your backpack too big,
your courage even bigger.
First date. First kiss.
First job,
and suddenly you’re standing
on your own two feet.

In the blink of an eye,
you’re grown—
and they’re looking at you
the way they once looked at each other:
full of pride,
full of wonder,
full of love they can’t quite put into words.

You meet him. He meets you.
A spark you didn’t expect.
A warmth you didn’t question.
You like him. He likes you.
Like turns into love,
love turns into marriage,
and you understand your parents
in a way you never did before.

In the blink of an eye,
they’re born—your heart multiplied,
your world rearranged
around tiny breaths and midnight cries.

Their first words. Their first steps.
Their first day of school—and you feel your parents’ hands
guiding yours.
Their first date. Their first kiss.
Their first job.
You are there for every triumph,
every heartbreak,
every quiet moment in between.

In the blink of an eye,
they’re grown—
and you wonder
how the years slipped past you
so gently,
so completely.

Your parents watched over you.
Later, you watched over them.
Now yours are watching over you,
steady and patient,
as you once watched over them.
You close your eyes—not in fear,
but in gratitude
for every ordinary miracle
that made your life yours.

In the blink of an eye,
you’re gone—
but the love you carried
keeps moving forward,
living in the hands
that once held yours.