When I remember all the things that my children have said that I wanted to write down but didn't, I get so frustrated with myself. Why don't I remember? Why don't I keep a notebook around just for that?
Why don't I remember the things they say when so many other insignificant things stick in my craw as if with super glue?
Maybe because the things they say come from such a particularly fresh perspective that they can't get traction with all my calcified neural paths. For instance, when I was walking home from the bodega with Nora and Russell the other day, Russell asks me "Mom, what's alive in your body right now?" I don't remember what I said, but whatever it was, I got it wrong. His answer was "your soul." I was very glad for the reminder.
My daughter is reading the book Holes and loving it so much. Last night she asked me "Mom, do you ever read something that surprises you so much it makes water go in your eyes?" You mean cry? I said. "No, you just get water in your eyes." I really don't remember that happening to me, but then again, there's so much I don't remember, or was never aware of at all.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I can't wait until my little guy starts talking. that's wonderful.
I often feel the same regret for not recording those moments in some way. I think that, maybe, we get caught up in the fleeting and spontaneous nature of those moments so that we don't think to stop and write them down at the time. Overall, that's probably a good thing.
I know, the truth of life is that things are heartbreakingly ephemeral.
Post a Comment