If Only We All Were 3 Years Old

How much simpler would life be, how much more. . . everything wonderful that makes up and follows in the presence of a 3-year-old child, if only we could all be 3.

"Me love you so much, mommy."

My heart stops in my chest now every time I hear that, having gone so many months without hearing it at all and facing the possibility that I may never hear it again. I've spent the last 8 days breathing in and out, amazed and stunned and relieved and ever so thankful to hear those words whispered in my ear, tiny arms wrapped around my neck and baby kisses on my cheeks.

"Me missed you, mommy."

"Why you crying, mommy? Me hug you. You better now."

It takes my breath away. I can't stand being away from my kids for a week, a day, or even an hour and to know that 4-1/2 months passed by, violently and needlessly carved from our lives and nearly destroying me in the process, makes the knowledge that I came through it not just for me but for THEM that much sweeter. Now that the sky has cleared, life moves forward, but at a slower pace, not just due to my multiple sclerosis but more so due to my appreciation for what could have been lost forever.