Getting here and going there

I was organizing my photos and getting them ready to be transferred to my external hard drive for safe keeping when I decided to go through our old photos. And when you go through old photos, you know what happens, don’t you?

It always begins with  a smile and that feeling of unexplainable joy as you browse through folders and folders of photographs. It feels good to recall and be reminded of  those good times, those precious moments. You’re in awe of the changes. The startling images of development and growth.  And since you’re already going through your photos, why not pull out the old photo albums and the memory box while you’re at it! Before you know it, there’s this unreasonable feeling …your heart gets heavy and then it sinks! You choke up and everything gets blurry. Thus, you find yourself reaching for the box of Kleenex, well in this case it’s a box of Puffs.

This always happens to me everytime I go through old photos. Sometimes, I’d like to tell myself just go ahead and cry already. Get it over with! I know why I cry when I get nostalgic. I know why happiness turns into sadness as I open each folder and touch each article of baby clothing or that piece of paper with what appears to be chicken scratch to everyone else but me. There are no regrets here but only joy. I’m glad that I have all these photos, videos and mementos tucked away in a box in my closet. Because, I can’t hold on to my little baby forever.

All I have now are memories. Beautiful memories. And my treasure chest is ever growing. It will always be full. It will be over flowing! Over flowing with priceless reminders of how it was back then, that in the beginning all he needed was me. Everything is different now. And I know it will continue to change. I don’t know what the future will bring. And I refuse to be burdened by my fear of what lies ahead. I can only hope. Hope and pray. Guide him. Encourage him. Support him. Because at the end of it all, no matter what, I will always be his Mama and he will always be my little boy.

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