Trace Adkins has a song called "You're Gonna' Miss This" and it just tears me up every time I hear it. {And you can read that tears to rhyme with pairs or to rhyme with hears. Works either way.}
I had a handful of random photos from a windy spring day that never seemed to amount to much in the scrappy layout world. Just the boys and Steve tossing a football and wrestling. Simple good times. No great shots. Just a few photos that were snapped as I sat on the chilly grass and watched my guys. We all love the outdoors and love to get out in it as much as possible. I have never minded being the one to watch, the home base, the keeper of the time and guardian of our stuff. Such was my perch on this Sunday afternoon, camera in hand, laughter in my heart.
The photos of that Sunday afternoon sat in my "to scrap" binder for most of 2008, all of 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012 and half of 2013....They seemed too small to mean much. The funny thing about stories is that they are organic. They morph and change and grow and shift. What was once just a windy day at the park over time turned into our last day playing at the park, the timeframe when Philip could tackle his younger brother, the days when Steve was taller than our boys....
As I worked on clearing out the 2008 album last year and wrapping up the loose ends of passed over photos and untold stories, I came across these photos and knew the moment was now tender enough and precious enough to scrap. This wasn't just a day at the park anymore. These days when we had their attention all Sunday afternoon were good times. These days when they could wrestle and not seriously hurt one another were fun times. These days when Steve could keep ahead of them were precious times. These days when they would need to run to the sidelines and camp out with me for a break from the action were tender times.
The reality is that when you are IN the last moment of something, you are never fully aware that you are IN the last moment. Had I known this was our last day at the park, I would have taken more photographs, staged some backdrop, taken a picnic...done any number of things to make the day more monumental, more concrete, more significant. But these photos remind me that we don't often know what lies ahead. We cannot see around the corner.
I have a sign hanging in my office, alongside photos of my three guys. "Live in the moment and make it so beautiful that it will be worth remembering." It's a paraphrase of a quote by Ida Taylor Scott. That sign is my clarion call, the reason I make the decisions I make, the ideal that keeps me focused. Trace is right. When the moments are only behind you, you are left to rely on a few silly photos, and if you are lucky, some beautiful memories in your heart to go with them.
I miss these little boys with their tender hearts, their innocent smiles, their round cheeks and twinkling mischievous eyes. I miss sunny Sunday afternoons spent together at a park, playing with few cares of the world on our shoulders. I miss silliness and games of chase and tackle. I miss these moments worth remembering.
Park Play ~ Arbor Hills Nature Reserve ~ April 2008
I had a handful of random photos from a windy spring day that never seemed to amount to much in the scrappy layout world. Just the boys and Steve tossing a football and wrestling. Simple good times. No great shots. Just a few photos that were snapped as I sat on the chilly grass and watched my guys. We all love the outdoors and love to get out in it as much as possible. I have never minded being the one to watch, the home base, the keeper of the time and guardian of our stuff. Such was my perch on this Sunday afternoon, camera in hand, laughter in my heart.
The photos of that Sunday afternoon sat in my "to scrap" binder for most of 2008, all of 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012 and half of 2013....They seemed too small to mean much. The funny thing about stories is that they are organic. They morph and change and grow and shift. What was once just a windy day at the park over time turned into our last day playing at the park, the timeframe when Philip could tackle his younger brother, the days when Steve was taller than our boys....
As I worked on clearing out the 2008 album last year and wrapping up the loose ends of passed over photos and untold stories, I came across these photos and knew the moment was now tender enough and precious enough to scrap. This wasn't just a day at the park anymore. These days when we had their attention all Sunday afternoon were good times. These days when they could wrestle and not seriously hurt one another were fun times. These days when Steve could keep ahead of them were precious times. These days when they would need to run to the sidelines and camp out with me for a break from the action were tender times.
The reality is that when you are IN the last moment of something, you are never fully aware that you are IN the last moment. Had I known this was our last day at the park, I would have taken more photographs, staged some backdrop, taken a picnic...done any number of things to make the day more monumental, more concrete, more significant. But these photos remind me that we don't often know what lies ahead. We cannot see around the corner.
I have a sign hanging in my office, alongside photos of my three guys. "Live in the moment and make it so beautiful that it will be worth remembering." It's a paraphrase of a quote by Ida Taylor Scott. That sign is my clarion call, the reason I make the decisions I make, the ideal that keeps me focused. Trace is right. When the moments are only behind you, you are left to rely on a few silly photos, and if you are lucky, some beautiful memories in your heart to go with them.
You're gonna' miss this,
You're gonna' want this back.
You're gonna' wish these days hadn't gone by so fast.
These are some good times,
So take a good look around.
You're gonna' want this back.
You're gonna' wish these days hadn't gone by so fast.
These are some good times,
So take a good look around.
You may not know it now,
But you're gonna' miss this.
I miss these little boys with their tender hearts, their innocent smiles, their round cheeks and twinkling mischievous eyes. I miss sunny Sunday afternoons spent together at a park, playing with few cares of the world on our shoulders. I miss silliness and games of chase and tackle. I miss these moments worth remembering.
Park Play ~ Arbor Hills Nature Reserve ~ April 2008
Sketch Credit: Scrapbook Generation http://scrapbookgeneration.com/index.php?route=product/category&path=213
Paper: My Minds Eye, Pebbles
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Lovely Penny! This is a reason why I don't mind letting photos sit for awhile. Sometime the hind site is the most memorable way to capture a moment.
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