Just a day. Isn’t it amazing how a day—a moment—can stay alive in your memory from your earliest days? There may not have been anything momentous about that moment, but it stays…it just stays.
My memory, I’m sure, is helped along by the pictures that were snapped in those moments by my father, but I remember. I remember the feel of the concrete steps on my bare little legs. I remember a feeling. I remember love…
I love the contentment I see in my little-girl self’s face. I love my hand wrapped around my beautiful, young mother’s arm as she leans close to give me a sweet mother’s kiss…moments….
Just a moment in time. My time…my moment…made all the more precious by the love I see in these captured moments and the love that was—and is still—given.