mother's day

I read once that the best way to appreciate the simplest of moments with your children is to travel in a time machine. You imagine yourself traveling forward twenty years, and then imagine that you're given the chance to travel back to the moment you are in.

Tonight Lauren fell asleep on the couch. I meant to just scoop her up and carry her to bed, but she snuggled right into me so perfectly that I sat down where she had been instead. I wrapped my arms around her, and pulled a blanket around us both. I held her head, still damp from the bath, against my cheek. She smelled perfect. I listened to her breath, so steady and peaceful. The day's list of things to do faded from my mind.

I traveled in the time machine, and back.

And without any warning whatsoever, I burst into tears. I was overcome by the thought of that sweet reunion, and then, the realization of how I will long for it, but will have no time machine to get me there -- right here, where I am now.

The words of Marjorie Hinckley came to my mind: "Don't wish away your years of caring for young children. This is your great day."

Indeed.