Moments are just that.
Here one minute, then gone...
I think we dismiss many moments too quickly.
The quick smiles, the calm before the storm, complete silence, a touch of the hand...
They go on and on.
Perhaps we can define moments by saying they are those times our mind takes a mental photograph and stores it away for times we need to be reminded of something...
Moments of love, frustration, hope, pain, joy.
They all count...they all matter.
I was reminded yesterday of some moments I put away.
My father passed away 4 years ago, yesterday was the anniversary of his passing.
I was reminded of the plane ride I took last minute when I got the phone call from my sister telling me he had slipped into a coma.
The smells of the airport, the material of the airplane seats...normally something I recognize then dismiss.
The people around me...rushing about to get wherever it is they are going.
I wanted to crawl inside myself and just cry...I wanted to make time stop.
I knew I was going to see my father for the last time...I knew when I got back on that plane it would be without a father in my life.
I remember what the man sitting on the plane next to me looked like, I remember the flight attendants name that brought us drinks, I even remember the ring tone of the woman behind me when her phone rang minutes after we landed.
I remember walking into the nursing home and the looks of the staff as they watched me walk down that long hall towards my father's room.
They all knew what was going on.
They all knew he was dying and that I was there to say goodbye.
What I remember most though was after he passed away before my mother, sister and I, was the silence.
No more listening for him to take his last breath. No more suffering, no more whispers to him telling him to just let go...to be at peace.
I remember watching my mother lay on his chest...I can't imagine what that moment meant to her.
Then one of the most beautiful moments in my life came.
Without going on too much about him and his condition(s), my father suffered an accident 13 years prior to all of this that left him partially handicapped.
He never regained full use of his hands...they always looked cramped up, bent at the knuckles.
My point is, he could never hold our hands...he couldn't reach out and touch our faces anymore like he loved doing...he loved all us girls so much, and he used to always cup my face with his hands and just look at me sometimes...and smile.
He couldn't do that after his accident, so the last time I felt my dad's hands on my face was over a decade ago.
After my father passed, we all took our time with him alone.
I don't know what my sister or mother did, as that was their personal moment.
All I know is what I did.
I sat down next to him, took his soft hand in mine and just held his hand.
His hands were no longer cramped...there was no more pain within them.
I closed my eyes and imagined he was still there for just a moment...god I missed him already.
I then laid my head down next to his side and put my face in his hand...I closed my eyes and just let myself cry over all of this.
I took my mental photographs of this moment.
Then I tucked them away.
These are moments I put away deep inside my heart.
I don't let them out very often.
I do cherish them so much though, and love that they are there.
Some may find them grim, or sad, or strange.
That's what makes moments so very important though...
They are yours, and for your interpretation and heart only.
Sometimes it's good to share them in hopes of helping others...inspiring hope or love.
They are emotional learning tools for helping our heart grow and change.
I do the same with Kannon.
I take mental pictures of his moments every day.
Then when I have time to reflect on them I can just sit and be still with my own thoughts...
With my own pictures, to do what I want with them.
To smile, laugh, reflect, piece apart, find peace with...
But never to bring anger, or resentment...for those moments should be discarded the moment they feel that way to you.
I like to think of it as a beautiful art gallery of pictures within me that I can pick and choose which ones my heart wants to reflect on for that day...or that moment.
And that is the key, it is My gallery of artwork that my life created for me.
I will never stop taking mental pictures, no matter how sad or painful they may seem...because you just don't know what you may learn from them.
This is how I grow.
This is how I find peace and move forward.
This is also why I share.