“He almost told her everything right then, that very moment. But you grab a moment, or you let it pass. He let it pass.”

“But you grab a moment, or you let it pass.”

“You had many more years,” he said.“I didn’t want them.”“But they wanted you. Time is not something you give back. The very next moment may be an answer toyour prayer. To deny that is to deny the most important part of the future.”“What’s that?”“Hope.”

“Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them. They move on. They move away. The moments that used to define them - a mother's approval, a father's nod - are covered by moments of their own accomplishments. It is not until much later, as the skin sags and the heart weakens, that children understand; their stories, and all their accomplishments, sit atop the stories of their mothers and fathers, stones upon stones, beneath the waters of their lives.”

“But they wanted you. Time is not something you give back. The very next moment may be answer to your prayer. To deny that is to deny the most important part of the future.”

“Dor shook his head. “The phrase. What does it mean?”Sarah wondered if he was kidding. “Time flies? You know, like, time goes really fast and suddenly you’re saying goodbyeand it’s like no time passed at all?”His eyes drifted. He liked it. “Time flies.”“With you,” she added.”

“Turn on the faucet. Wash yourself with the emotion. It won’t hurt you. It will only help. If you let the fear inside, if you pull it on like a familiar shirt, then you can say to yourself, “All right, it’s just fear, I don’t have to let it control me. I see it for what it is".”