We took our children to watch the sunset from an overlook not far from our home.

It wasn’t profound. It didn’t cost much.

But it was the special , ordinary kind of magic that happens to us when we least expect it.

We spent an hour on the bluff. At first ,it was hazy and foggy. And then, right before sunset the fog cleared and we watched the most beautiful sunset.

I’ve been thinking about the window of parenthood, and how it’s drawing rapidly to a close.

This fall, we will have three teenagers. This fall our oldest will be a senior. Within five years, three of our four children will be graduated.

This summer our oldest has his license , our next oldest has his permit. By winter we will have two licensed drivers.

Our boys are working nearly everyday. This is the summer of Almost Adults.

What will they remember when they are grown? What meteorites will they take with them?

Will they remember the sunset?

They might not remember the specifics.

But I hope they remember that we valued our time with them. That we made an effort to make fun memories with them. That we prioritized them over other activities.

Parenting has been more magnificent and beautiful and heartbreaking and challenging than I ever could imagined .

But I have a sneaking suspicion there are many, many things that I have worried over, that they won’t remember.

Life is earnest and fast paced , and they will one day leave home to conquer their own mountains.

And that is good, because that is the way life is supposed to be.

But I hope they will take a few sunsets with them.

“I cry to you, LORD, I say ‘You are me refuge, my portion in the land of the living.”

– Psalm 142: 5