Yesterday I had the immense privilege of seeing a baby born to my youngest sister. Of course I’ve had babies myself, but this was different, since I was otherwise occupied (to say the least), when bringing my own babies into the world, and so didn’t get to observe the process in the same way. Since it wasn’t me doing all the hard work this time, I got to see the reality of a child emerging into life. That plus the fact that I have a child getting married in two weeks gave me a different kind of perspective on this immense miracle. I’ve lived through several kids’ childhoods now, and I know that sometimes living the day by day feels long, but the years do fly. Being in the delivery room brought back the day my own twins were born, and suddenly the years between then and now collapsed. This cycle really is an eternal one, and being there at that moment of birth made me feel I was touching that bigger part of life that exists beyond minutes and hours and days. Having it in the midst of such a momentous summer only magnified it. Life often feels routine, but it’s really full of intense moments, beauty, drama, pain, effort, and wonder. I knew it, of course. No one who writes stories every day doesn’t. But yesterday I remembered it in the most vivid way imaginable. The stories that live out there in the world are incredible ones.