Part of a series inspired by Ross Gay
that starts here:
No worries, this isn't another birth story--don't we save the peddling of those tortuous tales for the baby showers? No? Whew!
After our first was born, and the three of us began to go out into the world of grocery and hardware stores, we began to notice something. Strangers, mostly men, would come up to us with their faces full of love (?), amazement (?), and softly, quietly, share their personal sweet moment, when they too held an infant of their own. It lasted such a short period of time, we were left with only each other's memory as proof.
Those brief golden moments felt like we'd been welcomed into a secret society, whose members fly in as swiftly as they leave, while those who stop to share their moment, hold a special place within that society. Perhaps they're the guardians. (Stop, K. You're musing away from the moment)
Though, after reflecting on that time, I realize we either missed the moment the second time around or we simply recognized it for what it was--amazement over having been a part of this new wee life.
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