I have lived the small moments.
Like a giggle fest during teeth brushing at bedtime. A giant watermelon. When the littlest one says, “Luv eww” with goodnight kisses. Moments that pass so quickly you can hardly breathe in thinking about it. Small moments that only you saw. That you will remember forever. Looks across rooms. A wink to reassure. A note scotch taped to the end of your bed.
The sacred final days of summertime, when the crickets sing their songs loud, a farewell to the freedom of long days with nowhere to be. I have lived these little moments.
When cranking up music and pushing back couches leaves plenty of room for dancing with wild children. When bed jumping is encouraged and going for ice cream twice in one day moves out of the realm of dreams and actually happens.
I have lived the small moments, when a feverish two year old sits up talking about everything that comes to her mind all night long. When watching the cat chase lizards around the yard at 3am is considered fine entertainment. When she lets you hold her like you did before she got all squirmy and big and walky and talky. Just you and her, in the middle of a dark night, crickets serenading, moon shining into a still house.
I have lived these small moments.
And, someday when I am old and bent and sitting in a dark house listening to crickets sing, maybe I’ll have albums filled with photos of the big moments. The parties. The graduations. The vacations.
But, these little moments. They will have evaporated like a too-short summertime.
So, I write about them here and I engrave them on my heart, praying that the little moments live as long as the crickets’ song.