The Moment...

I've discovered that living in the moment is terrifying. It amounts to a concession that the past is utterly gone, and the future simply doesn't exist. All we have then, the only tangible, is the present - and the present is but a moment.

Yesterday I held my friend's week old son in my arms. He was wearing a hand me down outfit of my son's. I was filled with wonder and amazement that only four months ago my son was that small, that sleepy, that fragile... I'd already forgotten.

Another thing I had forgotten...

My daughter, Little Beauty (3 1/2), was looking at this picture from Halloween (obviously) and she said she liked it because Little Handsome's eyes were open (my son, obviously). When LH was a sleepy newborn LB would get the biggest thrill out of him opening his eyes to look at her. It was a rare occasion. She would torment him with a chorus of "open your eyes little buddy, don't you want to see your sister," until he struggled to produce the little blinks that had us both enchanted with him. Now his eyes are always open, following LB around the room as she meows like a kitty, squinting away from her when she comes up to smother him with kisses, or licks, if she is still playing kitty. I'd forgotten the first thrill of my son's eyes.

Living in the moment means knowing I will forget. It is just too painful. My only solace is this, writing. Not just living in the moment but capturing it - however flawed and clumsy.