When I was a child I had an obsession with hunting fireflies. I would snatch all of them up and stuff their blinking butts into a jar. After capturing as many as I could, I would make a comfortable home inside the jar with grass, rocks, and leaves. I thought that if I made them feel as if they were staying in a five star hotel they wouldn’t resent me for keeping them locked away over night. My firefly moments would live in that jar if I had it my way. I would capture the moments, stare at them until I understood what they needed to tell me, and once that process was complete I would lovingly open the jar and finally send them on their way. But - Life moments are not firefly moments.