It’s amazing how time tricks you. How with its slow familiarity it sneaks past with lightening speed.
Everything feels the same in so many ways.
It may be a different house, a different toddler helping me in the kitchen, a different scene out my window, but why do I feel like nothing has changed at all? How am I supposed to ever remember these days, each one individual, pleasantly different, yet oh so familiar.
I feel like I walked this very same path fourteen years ago with the very same intentions.
But I’m different. The little hand I’m holding is different.
I need these images and my words to anchor me in time. I need a map on the wall showing me where I’ve come from, where I’m going, where I am today.
It’s too easy to forget. I have to gather little bits along the way and make my map.