The Weight of Memories

It seems I only note the passage of time when I realize how much of it has passed by unnoticed, turning months into years in what seems like a day. I take real and mental snapshots of moments and memories but I wish I could do more to hold on to them.

Last winter it snowed, which in North Carolina means the world stops. The base basically shut down, school was canceled and Dan got out of work. We suited up for snow and headed outside. The boys played and yelled and threw wet snowballs at each other but soon they ran out of steam and contented themselves making quiet tracks through the snow. It acted as insulation from the noise of their steps and for a moment everything was so silent it felt almost sacred.

I remember thinking, “Remember this! Don’t forget this moment!!” asĀ I tried to take in the quiet and the snowflakes and the faces of the little boys who won’t stay little for long.

Even then I sensed the fragility of the moment, that one day it would be broken by the weight of a million newer memories. Forgotten.

I hope one day when my sweet boys have grown they will read their mother’s words and know that my greatest memories, the ones I fight the hardest to keep, are of them.

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