It hits me as I sit, indian style as they used to call it in my Idaho school, in the hall. There's a bowl of water in the cross section of my legs, a damp rag in my hand. I'm scrubbing the fingerprints that seem to always be present on the lower two and a half feet of wall. Washing walls is a chore that I never envisaged as necessary before kids, but suddenly its something I do two or three times a year.
But then it hit me, so sharply that I actually paused in the middle of ringing out my rag, leaving it to drip onto my jeaned leg- these fingerprints will not always be limited to the lowest 2 1/2 feet of wall. No, they will rise higher and higher, slowly as the years pass by. Like some awful and inevitable tide rolling in.
And then they will be gone.
No more fingerprints.
I considered leaving them, at least on some small portion of out-of-the-way wall. A tribute. A reminder of this time of sticky peanut-butter fingers and even stickier kisses. I can almost imagine how the fingerprints would grow upwards, changing with the times. The peanut butter and finger paints of toddlerhood morphing into the dirt smudges of boyhood...and when they are teens? What will be on their fingers for me to find then? Ink from hours of writing? Dirt and sweat from playing some sport? The dust of pencil, or the leftover dried residue of paints, that the artist seems to always wear?
I shake my head, and I finish ringing out my rag- shoulders square for the task ahead of erasing all these memories from the walls. But in a softer place than my shoulders I am making sure not to erase these memories from my heart.
#238. Fingerprints on the wall.
Always, always, on the lookout for Moments of Grace.
#224. New, earlier bed times.
#225. Zeke's first book to "read" to me. He's memorized Dr. Seuss' B Book.
#226. The way Mal grabs my whole head and squeezes. The best. hugs. ever.
#227. Blanket forts filled with pillows, stuffed animals, and books.
#228. That after two days of throwing up, I get to put salt on anything I want to guilt free.
#229. Brightly colored balloons.
#230. A cat that jumps out of the bathroom drawer.
#231. Guests bearing gifts.
#232. Date night.
#233. Bagged salad for 59cents. Next to mixed shredded cheese, its my favorite convenience food.
#234. The billowing warmth of steam rising from the stove.
#235. Homemade sushi and flowering tea.
#236. Pajama day.
#237. Breakfast cookies.
PS. oh man how long has it been since I've had any pictures on here? Please forgive me, I'll work on that :)
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