Memories and photographs

I spent a bit of time on my day off this week, looking over photos of my dad. They're the ones all the family collected together for the memory boards at the funeral home. It's the first time I've pulled them out since. So many of the photos made me smile that it wasn't sad in the way I might have thought. It was pleasant to think about all the good times we had, birthdays and anniversaries and Christmases, and tons of times when it was just dad and my son being together, building a tower of blocks, walking on a beach or sharing a hearty laugh. What a precious collection of memories I have to help my son remember his Poppy. And I am thankful for that. I am reminded of the importance of photographs to chronicle our lives. I wonder, do I take enough photos to capture the fleeting moments with my 7-year-old? As I looked at snapshots of my nephews and niece when they were my son's age, I realized that the years until he's grown will go by just as fast. There's a children's book by Karen Kingsbury that I bought last Easter called Let Me Hold You Longer. It's all about how we celebrate our children's "firsts," but the "lasts" slip by unnoticed, until we realize that stage is gone forever. My son and I read the book together sometimes, either at his request or my suggestion. And we cuddle together and look through the pages, as the baby boy grows into adulthood. Part of it reads: "One day you will move away and leave to me your past, And I will be left thinking of a lifetime of your lasts." I hope my son understands that Mommy doesn't mean to rush through life, and that I really do want to "hold him longer." If I'd known that my dad's birthday in November 2008 was going to be his last, I would have held him longer, too. Now, instead, I'll hold onto the photographs and memories and, of course, to "Pop's boy". Dad and Noah represent the bookends of life for me. And I'm so glad their paths crossed, even if only for a few short years.