I love.

July 2010

It had been a long time, if ever, that daddy had sat down with us to watch our beloved 'Morgan movies', as they are called around these parts. Within a few hours, last Sunday, we watched our little guy grow right up.

We sat with son in-between us as we gushed over his toothless grin at three months, his chubby legs at six, how happy we looked here, and how tired we looked there. And tears came because we were both gushing. Not just me, the sentimental mother. Daddy was too.

That night, I closed my eyes and realized something important. No matter how much time I spend wishing for time not to go by so quickly, it still does.

Morgan will keep growing. And we will keep leaving behind perfect days. And the not so good ones, too. And we will keep gathering these moments until they are all on a string; a line that represents our lives together, with lots of moments that we won’t forget. And some that we do. And at the end, when we are old, and when our children have children, we will look back. And we’ll be looking back together.

It seems sort of perfect in this great wide plan of God’s, that we choose (or find) one to be eternally by our side. A help-mate, a companion. Someone that shares with us this great wide experience of life. (And the infinite that comes after.)

Sometimes, in the beauty and the personal sacredness of motherhood, and the best friendship I find with Morgan, I forget that someday I will have to let him go on. (And rightfully, beautifully so.) And my second darling. And whoever comes after that.

Still holding my hand, will be my husband.

And I’ll be holding his.