"That Guy"

Yes to all the sistas who were there for the story.

Let it be known that "this is the picture that Maddy took".

Every moment...

How does one even remember the moments not captured in a picture?

Years from now I want to remember what this looked like, and the image in my brain is all I will have.

With a belly full of sweet and savory food I sat on Maddy's bedroom floor and watched her play her violin. I got to listen to her navigate through a new song "it is just the most beautiful song" she warned me before she started.

And it was. I watched her, 21 years my junior, in wonder. How do you commit yourself to remembering these small moments? She is not even *MINE* and I want to remember this simple thing. Her stripes and her pigtails and her fingers moving over the strings. Living in the moment for this song and this place and these people.

It was a magical day. The sun shone and thanksgiving came early because good grief I am thankful for the things that are mine, and not, today.