A trick of my mind, for a moment, and it is another child, or two, or three, sitting in the sink, splashing, chatting. Peering out the window at the grey day, the birds blowing by, little wonderous eyes. I pour water, I wash, I bathe. Slippery toes between my fingers, a toothy beaming smile. I hold this moment, pressing it to my heart. So I won't forget.
Because we do forget. The pressed flowers of these moments do fade. No matter how tenderly, or tightly we hold them. They slip away, they grow, become these other lovely beings, shooting stars on their own path away from me.
But for now I will savour it and feel blessed and prepare to let go.
Someday.
1 comment:
I take pictures of my girls all the time, print them, kep them in books, write by them detailing stuff I want to remember. Beacuse It's sure you forget almost everything. Sometimes I'm about to cry when I realize I don't remember when the smaller's first tooth came out, when they begun talking... and so on. Then I grab the picture books and have such a great time looking at them. That's my treasure. In my heart there's more but I can't put that into words.
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