the moments that made me

 
I believe that there are big moments in our lives that shape us. Births, moving, graduations, marriages, deaths. They take us and shake us, shake our world. They change us, these pivotal moments in our lives. They shut doors and open others, pushing us always forward on our journey. But I believe too, that it is the small moments in between all that that truly make us. These are the moments that decide how we feel about Tuesday mornings, toasted waffles, green shutters, and movie nights that start after midnight. They decide how we cope with flat tires or one too many nights without sleep. They tell whether we prefer sunsets or sunrises, dark or milk chocolate, slow days or fast ones, eggs scrambled or fried. These in between memories say more about us than long tales of our greatest hours. These are the moments that make us, and these are the moments that made (and are making) me.

I am:

sweet, sticky lemonade on hot summer days
soft sweaters and sweat pants on cold winter ones
peanut butter and chocolate
rays of sunlight and a book on the living room rug
plastic bins under the guest bed full of off season clothes
scuttling crabs hiding under the rocks and tide flats and clam air holes and rotting pylons
chocolate cake baking in the oven and fresh bread cooling on the counter
fat baby cheeks and wispy hair and big eyes that trust
bright pink cheeks and frozen fingers after playing in the snow
she who must need pull out her camera whenever you wish she wouldn't
early Christmas mornings next to a real pine tree covered in twinkling yellow lights
a sombre service Friday before Easter and a Sunday morning bursting forth with song
sugar cookies with either too much or not enough frosting
fluffy golden pancakes on Friday mornings with syrup and strawberries, just because
the drone of the ferryboat and the frothy white wake and the pine clad islands
Car Talk and Saturdays which go together like butter and jam
just like that CD of English hymns which belongs solely to Sunday mornings
tight hugs and shy smiles and tickles and words of innocence from children
tangled hair and sunburns and tears
salt water
a girl who seeks to live life with laughter
boulsoni and raclette and a tiny apartment in a little alpine village
long car trips up to the mountains and back with the Newsboys and tobyMac and Mark Driscoll and Disney
the curtsies and spins and do-si-does and peels of the Virgina Reel
long evenings by the fireside / hearth in the winter and bon in the summer
chocolate bars squished under water bottles and sunscreen
handmade quilts spread under green headboards
frames on the wall with photographs and memories and children's masterpieces
hot enchiladas and chicken pot pie and blueberry muffins with butter and pork shish kebabs on the grill
coffee at ski camp, but not at home, because our fancy machine doesn't it make it the same
halfhearted attempts at running, but an exercise quota that fills up all the same
board games that keep me awake after long days of school
both evergreen trees and forests that light on fire come fall
a believer in grace
wind that snaps the lines and holds the sails taught as the pontoons glide across the water
popcorn / on the stove, microwaved, air popped. slightly burnt around the edges with butter and lots of salt
waking at five in the morning to scale the mountain and catch the sunrise
a heart full of hopes and dreams
tissues and buckets and pillows
nights under the stars and nights awake listening to the rain spatter on the canvas
silent kayaking, and the very much alive and in your face thrum of a powerboat
arms meant to hold tiny people and hug big ones
hands for working and grasping and loving and cooking and worshiping
eyes to see and to serve
a garden, from barren and empty to overflowing with harvest
the sea / waves and rocks and cliffs and seagulls
mountains to climb and to know and to love and to fear
jeans and a t-shirt
smiles and Sunday afternoon soccer
fireworks on the fourth and fourteenth of July and the first of August
popsicles that drip down our chins and sorbet made with rhubarb from the garden
kelp and barnacles and salt in the air that stays with my hair and reminds me of the sea 
the leap and shiver of the heart as it jumps into the canyon
meals outside in the setting summer sun
fresh green grass under bare toes
hearts laid bare

i am me

some lost photos from last summer