Isn't it interesting how those moments happen in the middle of the mundane, and if we're not careful, we miss them?
|Last day of first grade...or kindergarten...we aren't quite sure.|
There's something about them--the quality of the light, the way the air holds its breath, the stillness between seconds--and we try to take a picture with our minds so that we can hold onto the moment, remember its every detail, replicate it in our mind even years from now.
We won't be able to. Memory is fickle, and we know that. And the very fact that these perfect moments happen in the middle of our every day makes them that much harder to grasp.
Finally, I just give thanks and pray that God will help me remember. Because I know that the things that make a life are not the Pinterest moments or the well-planned birthdays or the perfectly executed vacations (not that there is anything wrong with those things). A life is made up of a string of moments, one after another after another.
I read as the sun sets, an arm around each boy. One moment.
I push the swing higher to the music of shrieking giggles. One moment.
I hold the Man's hand while we drive. One moment.
Tomorrow there will be new moments to replace them--some good, some not so good. I say thank you. And remember...as best as I possibly can.