Down by the mailbox, the little boys are bent over examining some microscopic speck of utmost importance. Their conversation reaches me in twitters and whispers. I cannot tell what they are saying but I can tell that they are excited about their discovery. I realize, as I watch them, that there will be many of these moments. Moments that are insignificant, but that quietly build their bond as brothers. Moments that I cannot be a part of, except to observe.

I worry that these tiny moments that we spend together will soon be forgotten. As I get older my memory isn't as clear with all of the busyness and chaos that has infiltrated my life in the past few years. I find myself unable to recall even the most basic information from the boys' infancy. And the little ones themselves are far too young to even remember these miniscule moments. I hope that even if all of these moments are lost to forgetfullness, that they will somehow be stitched into our spirits, our hearts, our experience. Invisibly woven into the tapestry of our life, making it stronger and subtly more beautiful.