Passing of Life

My life has been one of passing, my children's childhood passing before me, helpless, and hopeless to stop it, while they slip through my grasp, and grow before my eyes. A life of passing, as time flows through the proverbial hourglass, my youth, my health, and my life passes on into a dark abyss never to be the same again. Next July my eldest turns 25, next month my second turns 13, a teenager in every sense of the word. My third just turned 10, and is already becoming surrounded by the worries of life's responsibilities. My fourth, at 8, is following close behind, though his levity is a balm to my soul. My hopes for my children grow every day, and my amazement of them is only eclipsed by the awe I feel for who they are. Funny, inteligent, couragous, thoughtful, loving, caring, with a heart of gold, my boys are my reason for remaining in this life, and yet I fear I am not worthy to raise these gifts. They are, you know, pure gifts from GOD, and as angry as I am with him, even I have to admit, he has made each one perfect. I can only hope I do not do more harm than good.