Memory is a funny thing. It can be fleeting at times. Things that just go in one ear and out the other. I have my share. Just ask Kerry, my wife. I've also had my share of experiences that no matter how much you try to forget, you just can't shake them. I remember the night of my father's suicide almost 19 years ago so vividly; it's as if it took place yesterday. I remember the knot in my stomach as I got down on my knee in front of Kerry over nine years ago and pulled the ring out of my pocket. I remember the excitement and anxiety as I sat in the delivery room waiting--for what seemed like an eternity--to hear Ethan's first cry while trying to keep Kerry calm. While some of the details get fuzzy over time, the big events, they stay with you.
But other times, little everyday moments occur, and just something about them--something I can't quite put my finger on--tells me with every bone in my body, I'll remember that moment for the rest of my life.
I had one of those moments tonight with Sophia.
She had just had her tubby time with Kerry, and I was getting her dry and into her pajamas. I had the High School Musical Soundtrack playing for Ethan. Sophia was getting a little fussy, so I just started dancing with her in my arms. And she was giving me some great big belly laughs. So I kept on dancing with her, and after about 15 minutes of me doing the white-man's overbite with her, she put her head on my shoulder. A few more songs played, and she just faded off to sleep as I danced away. She gave a couple of soft moans and nuzzled into my neck a few times. And as I lay her in her crib, she gave a soft dreamy giggle.
Now I've danced with her a hundred times, and she's even fallen asleep on my shoulder a bunch of times, but this...this time I'll remember forever.