Once upon a time, there was a dear, dear sweet but disgruntled husband who said he must invest in an additional hard drive to store all of his wife's precious memories. He cringed at the idea of adding another terabyte simply to be filled up with photos. He scoffed at the cost of computer memory, space, external drives.
His wife told him, ‘I don’t care. Find a way.
I want to remember…
Those tiny, busy, hands.
The deep little dimples.
The smiles. Oh God! Their innocent smiles.
The toys. The trains. The setting up.
The dress up. And cleaning up.
Freeze dance. The joy of their movement.
The stillness of naptime.
The cuddles. The hugs. The sloppy, wet, open, mouth toddler kisses.
Bun Bun, and the entire box of chocolate I ate when I thought Bun Bun was gone forever.
The walks to school.
The bedtime stories.
I want them to remember the details, and detours.
I want them to remember the safety of home, while a war rages on the other side of the world.
I want them to remember our three simple governing family rules and use them the rest of their lives… (“People are not for hurting.” “Everything has a proper place.” and “Conflict is resolved by talking”)
I want them to remember tickles. Hide-n-go-seek. Tic-tac-toe.
I want them to remember castles, cultures, and camping.
I want them to remember their family.'
So, that dear, dear, sweet but disgruntled husband found a way. He invested in another external hard drive.
He forced a smile when his wife said, “oh! I snapped another 400 gazillion photos today!” He relished in the memory of those 4 people who consumed their minds and hearts each and every day. He added memory, and space, and hard drives, and photos, for his wife. For the sake of remembering.