Which are the moments we hold onto?
The important ones, right? The ones that stand out along our journeys–that make us feel as though we could take hold of moments in time, bury pieces of ourselves there, and use the gravestones we leave as markers of our progress. Marriages, graduations, anniversaries, births.
I remember a few of my milestones, but it isn’t those moments I hope to preserve. I don’t want to store my soul in official moments–I want to remember the times that love was truly present in my life; tangible, subtle, overpowering.
That’s why I wanted to bury a little of my soul in the moment when Babar followed us into the kitchen this morning.
And because a “snuggle-up party” is always a party I’m up for. But you never know what’s really happening until these moments are past.
“Why is she covering up her face, Dada? I don’t like it.”
“Why don’t you like it, honey?”
“Because then you can’t see her face.”
How much can I tell you, girl? You’re so smart, but it can’t be time for me to explain the history of patriarchy you’re up against, can it? Isn’t it too early? I just want to tell you that this little piggie had roast beef and leave it at that.
It didn’t matter. When you’re having a snuggle-up party there’s no time for in-depth asides,only for tickle-time.
And so I didn’t get a chance to tell you, Maggie, Ariel, that you two are the gifts I cherish–so much so that I store pieces of my soul in the moments we spend together. To try and own such a gift is blasphemy. It would diminish the value of your both having presented yourselves to me, as people to love, as my family. I would never seek to wrap you and present you (or unwrap and accept you), because you’re being given and received each moment, freely, by you, and that is the price of our love. All I can do for these moments in time is thank you.
And that is what I will always do.