While in Alaska, my family and I saw an bald eagle soar right above our heads. It made us stop, turn, and gasp a deep breath. Later on that same trip, a brown mother (or father) bear walked in front of our bus as we slowly approached our glacier destination. Everyone got up and raced to the left side of the bus almost trampling over each other to take pictures. Both those times my instincts led me to reach for my camera. I didn't succeed with taking the shots.
Thirteen, eleven, and eight years ago, a slimy new born baby was placed on my deflated belly and we both stared into each others eyes for the first time. I have to trust that my memory will preserve my memories for me.
While waiting to board our cruise ship, I took a picture of an ordinary pigeon I saw later that same day to celebrate the ordinary moments. The breath taking moments, I know are irreplaceable and I entrust them to my memory. But among the rare fleeting moments are all the ordinary pigeon moments that I want to stop and recognize as well.
Moments such as: having a conversation with my sons on our way to school; blessing my sons as they set out to school; kissing my husband goodbye or hello; cooking with my sons or having dinner as a family. Having an ordinary day in an ordinary life and feeling extraordinarily happy about it.
No one goes to Alaska to take a picture of pigeons. I did because it represented all the ordinary moments in my ordinary life.
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