Every moment that makes your heart sing;
Every moment that makes you pull your hair out;
Each smile, giggle or laugh;
Each triumph or difficulty.
For each moment is just a moment,
Fleeting and difficult to capture
Before it's gone.
Be present in those moments
And perhaps they'll live forever:
In a house full of love and joy,
The Last Time
The father, reading to his girlsome little tale they always readis unaware that this may bethe last one that she’ll ever need;she’s grown past stories softly readby daddy sitting on the bed.The mother with her muddy son,kicking a football in the park,cannot sense as they wander homethrough chilly, soft-approaching dark;this was the last time they’d come out to kick that happy ball about.How secret, sneaky-soft they come:those last times when we’ll kiss it better, hold their hand across the road or lift them up to post a letter.They pass unmarked, un-noticed; forwe’re not so needed any more.So they abandon fairy tales,and nursery rhymes that mummy singsand leave behind soft toys - and us -and put away their childish things;a loss so small.Our loss the greater, unmissed, un-mourned, until years later.