I put his hand in mine for the last time. During the previous 24 hours I took pictures of his hands, feet, hair, ears, back, stomach - everything. I would never again see the mole behind his ear or the peach fuzz on his cheeks. I knew I would never forget them, but time has a way of blurring the images in your mind.
You would never think of taking these type pictures of your child when they are healthy - why would you? But I thought of them now as he was leaving me. His arms thin and weakened - his fingers small and frail in my hand.
I remember when his hands were so small his fingers could only wrap around one of mine – now his hand lay soft and motionless in my hand. There was such talent in his hands - the hands that danced along the keys of the piano and dribbled a basketball. I wish I could remember every single thing these hands did or recall each and every place they went.
I am grateful for the pictures that I have of Tyler and my family. Since Superman died I thought how blessed I am to live in a time where we have so many pictures, videos, and recordings. How difficult it must have been in the past to have lost a loved one and with the passing of the years find yourself desperately grasping at those fading images.
I recently started carrying a small notebook – I call it my “Things I Never Want to Forget” notebook. When I remember the obscure and previously forgotten places his hands went I write them down. I could record the memories on my phone and sometimes do when I am driving, but I want to be able read them. I want to remember his hands, the things they did, and the places they went.
How often do we get those precious glimpses into the past and smile, laugh, or cry then move on with our day and forget? I never want to forget what his hands did or where they went. I never want the images to blur.
Cherish every moment.
Whatever It Takes