Tomorrow I commute north, eventually merging back into the frantic city traffic.

Before I spend five hours in the car with my Aussie as my guard and companion, I’m rocking my grandson.

When I accepted this contract, I was spending two days a week with my newest grandson.

I’ll resume that precious venture when I return from my travel assignment next month.

For today, though, I’m enjoying each moment.

I took my grandson from the arms of my middle child this morning when I arrived, and he told me his firstborn was very tired and should sleep for me.

Instead, my grandson spent over an hour smiling and baby babbling to me – I told him how much I missed him, and I’m sure he was responding in kind.

How I’ve missed his giant, gummy smile, and the way his whole face lights up when he sees me.

I hold him while he sleeps, carrying him like I carried his father almost three decades ago.

Time is fleeting. Precious. Merely a breathe. Everything they say about the days being long and the years being short has proven true.

So I’ll soak up every soft baby breath. I’ll cherish his fingers on my neck, grasping my necklace as he dreams.

I’ll smile and laugh with him when he wakes up.

And we will play.

It’s these moments of time that I’ll make last all day, turning them over in my mind as memories to sustain me until I return.