I’m sitting at Starbucks and a lady walks in with an 8 month old baby. The guy next to me (an old retired guy playing video games on his iPad) must know her somehow, or he’s seen her (he seems like a regular). Asks how things are going. They exchange small talk. She says, ,”Can you believe he’s 8 months old already?” to which the man replies, “Time flies.”

My mind goes back to when my oldest son was 8 months old. In 18 days he’ll be 18. I can vividly remember him being 8 months old and can recall so many incredible memories in the 17 and a half years that have transpired since those days when he was my baby boy.

Now I’m holding back tears at Starbucks as I think about how much he’s grown and how proud I am of him. Life is such a mystery. We don’t realize what it really means to make the days count.

Fast forward in my brain to when I’m the old guy playing video games at the coffee shop and someone walks in with an 8 month old. My almost 18 year old will probably be almost my age. It’s probably not that far away, but you better believe I’m going to make the most of the time I have between now and then.