Memorizing Moments

Last week's vacation? It was a gift. A treasure.

And I want to memorize every single moment. 

I want to memorize my soul mate. My best friend. The one whom my soul loves. 

I want to memorize my Love in sandals and soccer jerseys, with a two-year-old tugging his hand. I want to memorize the way our little boy shines, beams, radiates adoration for his Pai. 

I want to memorize the boy with two cowlicks. My own Huckleberry Finn. All bare feet, sandy knees, and unruly joy. 

I want to memorize the way he throws himself into the waves with fearlessness and laughter. The way he plays hard, laughs long, loves deep - and reminds me that I should do the same. The way my heart beats, pounds, throbs with love for him.

I want to memorize my parents. Together. A love story over 30 years in the making.

I want to memorize the way they talk and laugh and care for each other. I want to memorize their commitment. Their vow. The way they promised forever and still mean it.

I want to memorize my parents with Asher.

I want to memorize the way my Dad stoops low to play with his grandson. The way his heart is young when he chases, spins, tickles. The way he gathers Asher into his arms to share a moment. A memory. 

I want to memorize the way my Mom delights in her grandson. The way she forsakes sleep to play one more game. The way her eyes crinkle when she laughs. I want to memorize the way she is always game for a light-hearted moment or a deep conversation.

I want to memorize my brother as an uncle. The way he understands just what a little boy needs - a fishing pole, a squirt gun, and his own little chair. The way Asher smiles shyly when Uncle Andy walks into the room. The way Asher begs for Uncle Andy to hold him like Simba.

I want to memorize the way my sister makes me laugh. From my toes. Like no one else. I want to memorize the way joy seems to follow her. Like a shadow. Never far behind. 

I want to memorize Lake Michigan at sunset. Sun kissing water. Golden hour. I want to memorize the way people gather on benches and blankets to say good night to the sun. 

I want to memorize fields of cherry trees. Branches bending with scarlet fruit. Boughs bearing the weight of rubies. 

I want to memorize the moments. The memories. The togetherness.

Because these moments? They are my gift. My treasure. Pearls strung together to make a life.