This was a beautiful day. Kids became wild cats with a little make-up. Blankets flew. Tiny feet jumped and twirled. Skin lovingly touched skin in hugs and kisses. Just one of those days God gives you to keep you going. Priceless.

But I only remember it because I have photos to jog my memory.  How many others have I enjoyed and now they’re gone forever?

“The saddest part about life is you don’t remember half of it. You don’t even remember half of half of it. Not even a tiny percentage, if you want to know the truth.  I have this friend Bob who writes down everything he remembers. If he remembers dropping an ice cream cone on his lap when he was seven, he’ll write it down.  The last time I talked to Bob, he had written more than five hundred pages of memories.  He’s the only guy I know who remembers his life. He said he captures memories because if he forgets them, it’s as though they didn’t happen; it’s as though he hadn’t lived the parts he doesn’t remember”

– A MILLION MILES

“It’s as though he hadn’t lived the parts he doesn’t remember.”  That line breaks my heart.

Every, every minute of life is precious – a gift from God. Yet, I forget pretty much every one of my lovingly-lived minutes before the week is through.  Why is that? I hunger and thirst to capture each exquisite moment with my little kids and with my husband and with my friends.  But. I can’t. They are gone. Lived and loved and gone.

But I have hope that God is remembering it all for me.  Maybe life is like a movie and He’s the cinematographer and director. I’ll get to watch the movie with him when we are together someday.  It’ll be one of our date nights.  God and I will snuggle on the couch… me curled up next to Him… I bet he smells amazing… and we’ll watch the show.  We’ll laugh and he’ll show me his favorite parts (he’ll have 1000’s).  I’ll jump up at times – remembering something fabulous for the first time since it originally happened.  I’ll look over at him and he’ll laugh and smile at me with more love and understanding than I thought possible – and I’ll curl back into him for a thousand hours more.  We’ll cry together too – parts will be tragic. It may hurt a little, but this time, like in any well-told story – the saddest parts will provide the meaning and the power that make the triumphant and sweet parts so special.

I cling to that hope.  In the meantime, what do we do to help us remember? I thank God for the pictures I manage to take of moments I LOVED and would just not remember otherwise.  I try to journal. I have friends with better memories than me who help out.  It’s a big question in my life.   I struggle with the tension of loving and then releasing each moment as I live it. What about you?

-Nicole