Eyes to the Future

Twenty years from now, it won't have mattered whether or not the bathtub was perfectly scrubbed.

Twenty years from now it will have mattered that I stopped scrubbing the bathtub to play with her.

Twenty years from now, it won't have mattered that the plates were chipped or that the cups were not a matched set.

Twenty years from now, it will have mattered that we sat down at the table together, said a blessing, and shared stories about what happened that day.

Twenty years from now, it won't have mattered that her books were scattered everywhere.

Twenty years from now, it will have mattered that she loved to read and did so in every corner of the house.

Twenty years from now, it won't have mattered if she went to preschool with wrinkled pajamas on (as she always insists on wearing, no matter the day!)

Twenty years from now, it will have mattered that she was always told, "I love you. Have a great day!"

Twenty years from now, it won't have mattered that her bed was made haphazardly; that there were lumps under the covers and pillows left on the floor.

Twenty years from now, it will have mattered that I leaned over her rumpled bed, kissed her goodnight and assured her that even as she slept, she was loved.

Ten years from now . . .

Ten years from now it won't have mattered that the couch was second hand.

Ten years from now, it will have mattered that we sat on that couch and laughed until we cried – and that on that very same couch, I held her when she cried genuine tears of sadness.

Ten years from now, it won't have mattered if there were muddy footprints tracked through the house.

Ten years from now, it will have mattered that she ran with abandon, filled her lungs with fresh air, and connected with the wonder of nature.

Ten years from now, it won't have mattered that she didn't get everything she wanted.

Ten years from now, it will have mattered that her deepest needs were met.

Ten years from now, it won't have mattered that I wasn't a perfect parent.

Ten years from now, it will have mattered – and mattered deeply – that I was a present parent.

So today and every day, may I live in the moment with my precious daughter, with my eyes to her future.

And let me offer my daughter the gift of what will have mattered in her life.