Blink

The last little while I've been an avid reader of a blog written by a woman who lost a daughter shortly after birth due to birth defects. While some might think that, for me, this would be "dwelling" on my own loss, I find her words very uplifting. She is avidly Christian, and even though we are not of the same church, I feel that we are of the same Faith.

Her latest blog entry tells a story of one of her older daughters telling her it was too bad she didn't have a camera, because she just made a pretty picture in a moment with the youngest daughter. She told the older daughter that she would just have to blink and hold the picture in her mind.

I love that idea, and it got me thinking of all the wonderful little mental pictures I have. As I was reading this, Erin scooted up to me from her pile of toys, wanting to be up in my lap. And then she just laid there with her arms around my neck and her head on my shoulder. It was such a great moment. She doesn't do that often anymore, and I know it's just going to become more and more rare. It got me thinking of all the small moments that I have missed out on because I have been so consumed with how horribly sick I feel. I admit, I've been selfish, and I've been pushing Erin away, and she really doesn't deserve it.

Childhood is full of small moments, and I want Erin to think back on the small moments in her life and know just how much I love her, and how much I deeply enjoy her. Right now she's pushing her walker around the room, and she'll pause just to look up at me and grin. I hope she never has a question in her mind how much her mother loves her.

So, I guess, I'm going to do my best to provide those small moments, no matter how I feel.