Dandelion

Prologue

It's strange how we go from moment to moment, without ever really noticing time has passed us by. One second, you're sitting with your friends during lunch, talking about your plans for the next week or about that cute boy that just walked into the lunchroom. Then you blink, a few years have passed and you're throwing your graduation cap into the air, whispering a silent "about damn time". You blink again, three more years have passed, you get a small degree, but find school just isn't the path you wish to be on anymore. There was always just something missing. Blink. Another two years slip by from under your nose, you cry with happiness as you hold your sweet baby boy for the first time. Filled with wonder, you question how it's possible to love someone so small with every fiber of your being.

It seems that the older you get, the slower you try to blink, but time goes by faster and faster without waiting for you to catch up. With one single breath, several moments could slip through your unknowing fingers without pause. With one single blink, ten years could pass by, and you'd never even notice. The transition from the beginning to the end of our stories can be so effortless, that we don't see the bigger picture until times on the brink of running out. That's the beauty of it all though, right? We find the end of the road, wishing we had more time. Wishing to undo mistakes, say goodbyes, or just be there, in a single moment that seemed so pointless at one time, but unable to go back.

As children, wishing on dandelion's freed us from those worries. We were told that if we saw a dandelion, full, fluffy, and white, to pick it, twirl it in your fingers as you make a wish, blow the wish into the dandelion, and let its seeds take root. The question wasn't how far would your wish go, or how long would it take? It was always, would it take, or would it even be heard? Some days, wishing on dandelions was all that could be done to pass away the seconds. Even as we grew from child to adult, how something so silly was still engrained deeply within our minds, we still sometimes find ourselves picking, wishing, and hoping.

How can time pass so effortlessly? Never giving us a moment to think about our actions and if we made the right choices? Never giving us the time to think before we speak, or the ability to slow down and actually enjoy how it feels to be cared for by someone who genuinely loves you. To take a moment and tightly hold onto someone you love before they are taken away too soon.

Wishing on dandelion's somehow gives us that moment we need, even unknowingly. It becomes a moment to hope, a moment to mourn, a moment to heal. The sweet and naïve child within us prays that it'll take root or are at least be heard, even though the hard-hearted adult in us knows better. There is still a comfort, and sometimes even a little joy, in taking that singular moment watching and wishing as the wind dances the seeds away.