By Soul Riser. Used with permission. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

There are a few moments from my life, that I wish I could hold forever. I wish I could capture them into a snow globe and place them on a shelf for me to pick up and hold again and again the rest of my life…looking into the moment…and seeing it, experiencing it all over again.

Those moments when my husband seems to just get me…to understand when I am overwhelmed with the duties of wife, and mother, and teacher, and housekeeper, and friend, and sister, and daughter…when he walks by and just holds me. A long and strong hold. And he doesn’t let go until I do.

That moment that started just a few days ago, when my 2-year-old, Benjamin said he wanted to pray too during our nightly family bedtime prayer. And then he closed his eyes real tight and murmured faintly,

“nanananana…..nananananana….daddy…. and KK….nanananana and JJ….and Mommy.”

And I knew he was thanking God for our family.

Holding Kanan, my oldest,  in the Nicu for the first time after a 24-hour-quarantine from him due to my high fever–I was a first time mom and amazed and exhilarated by this little life I had created with this big mop of long blonde hair on his head and piercing blue eyes. I missed him terribly after carrying him in my own body for 9 months, only to have him taken from me for 24-hours before I had a chance to even hold him. That first moment holding him in the NICU…yes…

I’d hold that moment earlier this week when Jameson, my middle son kissed my belly and said to me,

“I want to take care of Scotland, my baby sister, Mommy” with big, eager eyes and wide smile..his father’s smile.

Those long conversations with my father about life and love and politics over coffee on Saturday mornings on his front porch. His warm hugs afterward, always with sweater covered arms….Left only for me to hold in the fragments of memory, until I see him again in heaven.

My mom’s soft hands on my forehead when I was a girl. Always so comforting when I felt sick or sad. She has the softest hands. And sometimes, even though I’m almost 35 years old, I still want my mom to run her soft hands over my forehead, to hold my hands with her soft hands and soothe me with words of wisdom.

5 Minute Friday is a Blog Club I’ve joined. Kate Montaung, blogger of  Heading Home at KateMontaung.com sends out a word prompt, to which we set the timer for 5 minutes and write on. Come learn more at http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/ .