First day of school for 2/3 of them.
This photo tells the morning: two are versions of proud, eager - the third woke anxious and translated it quickly to mean. He didn't want to be photographed, didn't think his brother (who started school last week) had any business co-starring in his first-day of school shot.
I see so much of them in this little shot, from a phone. So much of that moment - by the back door, bellies full of waffles, posing for mom in her pajamas - clumsily pointing a phone at them because she can't find the damned camera.
Two days into it, and we have clicked into a routine already. There are rhythms.
I envy how much they are in it - the living, the growing, the being. While the adults trudge through, over, around. We are invariably too busy doing to Be. We have to remember to grow - for us, it takes trying.
Intrigued by the past, I have no desire to jump ahead, to see the future. It will happen. And more quickly than any of us can imagine. And bits of now will be part of that eventual Then.
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We grow up to be voyeurs! "I envy how much they are in it - the living, the growing, the being. While the adults trudge through, over, around" and "We have to remember to grow - for us, it takes trying." Your words make me ache from the truth of it, the simplicity of phrase. Bullseye.
ReplyDeleteEvery time I kiss my now-9-year-old daughter's forehead, I am kissing the bygone toddler, the cuddly and curious 4-year-old, the 7-year-old just learning the thrill of gliding downhill on a bicycle. Every moment is a Then waiting to be recalled. How many have I lost already? How many Thens have already slipped away unrecorded? And what am I left with?