Why I Best Remember This Moment
We’re lying in bed together just before she goes to sleep. She has her arm slung over my body. We look at each other. Face to face. Just the two of us. I start singing a song, and Polly joins in even though she doesn’t know the words. I sing, and she sings, and her relaxed attempt at joining in without knowing what she is doing and without realizing she should care sends a tickle down my throat. I break out into laughter and she joins in with that, too. We laugh until we can’t breathe. Tears stream down my face. Her smile is as wide as a waxing moon. I stare at her beautiful almond eyes and think, who would want to give this up?
They say that moments make up our lives.
If that’s true, then I best remember the good and the bad.
But there is more to the story. Because for all the bad moments, there are a million good.
Moments make up our lives, right?
Then I have to remember that the bad is just life. The bad moments have a purpose. The bad make the good that much better.
Polly’s good moments resoundingly beat out her bad. Oh, of course she is human; mean and selfish and sneaky. “Polly, are your toys cleaned up?” “Yes,” she lies, happily running on to her next activity.
But also, there’s this: she is a bell that rings daily. She was made to exude sunshine. She does her job well.
Seconds after we are crying from hilarity, she is fast asleep. She’s been known to fall asleep mid-sentence.
She lives hard and well and falls asleep fast.
What more could a mother want? I must remember moments like this.
Moments make up our lives.
This post originally appeared on Gillian Marchenko’s personal blog.