Some things are just too good

As the years go by, it seems that the number of personal or family photos I post gradually dwindles, almost to a trickle.

The everyday adventures of the early years of parenting seem at first to burst forth like an open dam. The memory of every dimple and smile, first laugh, first taste, first step, first fall, first penance, first tragedy, first friend, first day of school... feels so fleeting and precious, I want to hold on to each one for as long as possible.

The long days begin to quicken in their momentum, and soft little chubby arms encircling my neck soon extend into long lean muscled limbs resting heavily around my shoulders. 

I don't have to hold their hand any more when we cross the street. But they hold mine.

Love's pain grows sweeter with each passing hour, day, and year.

A fleeting image captured of a moment, pales in comparison to the truth of everything it means.

Some things are just too good.

"...I never tell them about our lives.You know why?

It is not because I am ashamed.

It is because some things are just good

too good to be judged."

―from 'Laurinda' by Alice Pung