Belinda Jane

Memorykeeper. Mother. Maker

I Want To Remember: Part 3

Life with Lee

I want to remember how much I truly love this wonderful man.
 
I want to remember how hard it was to be away from him for the two nights I was in hospital and how happy I was to be in his arms and be sleeping by his side again when I came home.
 
I want to remember how much my heart has swelled watching him become a father again.
 
I want to remember how wonderful he has been with Violet these last few weeks.
 
I want to remember how much he has sacrificed to be here with me, making a family together.
 
I want to remember that I feel stronger and more able to tackle life when he is by my side.
 
I want to remember all of the things that he does around the house and let go of the the things that take him a little longer to get to.
 
I want to remember that although there have been rough patches in our relationship so far, and that there will no doubt be more rough patches to come, my life is infinitely better with him in it. And that working through those rough patches will always be worth it.
 
I want to remember how happy I was when he proposed and how excited I am to be marrying him.
 
I want to remember how much he can make me laugh, and to allow myself to laugh with him more often.
 
I want to remember for us to have fun together. To not always be serious.
 
I want to remember to make time for him.
 
I want to remember to make sure that the things that I say and do show him how special he is to me and how much I value him and everything that he has bought to my life.
 
I want to remember to show him how much I love him and to make sure that he knows that he has my whole heart.

I want to remember: Part 1

Life with Violet

 

I want to remember how this morning she spontaneously said “I love you” to me during breakfast.

I want to remember her crazy hair and the cute little curls that are nearly impossible to tame.

I want to remember her inquisitive and adventurous nature. That she wants to climb everything, run everywhere and jump off everything. That she wants to get into everything, pull everything apart and put things inside other things.

I want to remember that when she says her name, it sounds like she’s saying “Pirate”.

I want to remember how much she loves to sing and dance. I hope she always will.

I want to remember how caring and kind she can be. The way that her little face drops when someone else is sad or crying and how she responds by touching or offering a cuddle.

I want to remember how much she loves to play with Ella and how they chase each other around the house.

I want to remember how much she needs me right now and so often wants to me to pick her up. Even if it drives me a bit crazy. I know that it won’t be long until she doesn’t need or want me at all and I’ll wish for this time again.

I want to remember that the first thing she asks most mornings is “where Daddy gone?”

I want to remember the smell of her breath.

I want to remember how she has randomly started dropping the f-bomb in perfect context and how hard it is for me not to giggle or react when she does.

I want to remember how much she loves to read books and how quickly she’s learning to read along with them.

I want to remember how much my heart swells when I check on her at night before I go to bed.

I want to remember listening to her in her room when she’s supposed to be sleeping or has just woken up and sings at the top of her lungs. Especially “allll dayyy yyong”.

I want to remember all the funny little mannerisms she’s already picked up. The sideways glance. The cute little head nod when she thinks she’s getting her way. The finger wagging at me when she’s trying to get me to do something. The “huh?” when she’s asked a question she doesn’t understand or doesn’t know the answer to.

I want to remember how much she loves her pink glitter gumboots.

I want to remember how she has started kissing and cuddling my belly as it has gotten bigger.

I want to remember how precious this time is, where it’s just the three of us and she is our entire world.

 

 

Photo credit: Rachel Roscoe of Milky Art Photography

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