Not lost on me

It’s not lost on me,

The littleness of his hands and feet that curl when he feeds.

Or the rise and fall of his chest that steadies when we embrace.

Or the snuffling sounds he makes from the cot as he falls asleep.

Or the way his arms startle when a door slams.

Or the tightness of his grip when he finds my hand, or nose, or hair.

And it’s not lost on me,

The way she tries to put her hair up in a pony tail when she sees me do the same.

Or the pride she has when she puts her shoes on the right feet.

Or the reaching for my hand when she is surrounded by new faces.

Or the attempted pronunciation of her brother’s name.

Or the way she points to her chest and introduces herself to me as if we haven’t met.⠀

They are the things I notice, soak in, and revel in,⠀

They are the things that I take photos of and talk about,⠀

They are the things I remember to appreciate,

WHEN I get a moment.

These are the precious moments of the stages we are in that are not lost on me, even if the time for the moments can be.

It can be lost tending to the emotions of the other who is expressing them louder or spending time with the other when it all becomes quieter.

This is what happens now.

But while time for each may have been lost on the other, the moments for both are not lost on me.