Henry and I are on the screened porch, enjoying the moderate temperature and the sound of the rain, waiting on Dad to come home.
The chickens next door are cuddled under the coop; the birds who frequent our feeders are hiding; we haven’t seen the deer all day.
Dusk is calm, cool, and peaceful.
We relax. We giggle. Henry sings a tune. He holds out his arm. “Can I have a hug?”
These are moments I hoped for when summer loomed darkly on our horizon, when the final day of school was drawing near and memories of the last, tumultuous summer threatened to ruin the present.
These are moments I’ve relished all my life and dreamed of sharing with him. Summer thunder. Huddling indoors. Peering out at the sky and trees.
How do we make these memories happen? Do we orchestrate them? Plan them? Organize them?
No, we awake to the moment. We live fully present, keenly aware that all is precious and all is fleeting.
Whatever you are enduring or celebrating in this season, know this: it will pass. Embrace all that you are, all that is here, all that is now. Know that this hour, this day, this summer will not last. It will soon be your memory.
What do you want the memory to be?