I have no love for the computer right now, which is ironic because here I sit. This week, I permanently deleted (accidentally) the video files from baby Blake's first three months of life. What struck me was the extreme sense of loss I felt... there's no way I can go back and recreate those moments. I have photos, but I can't hear the cries or the buzz of excited chatter that filled the room when he arrived into this world. There are so many things that will now be left to the imagination, my memories... Everything I love about this life is merely on loan to me. Having children magnifies how quickly things change. They are growing so quickly... sometimes it all feels like a blur. I try to capture the magic with videos and photos, but now I'm painfully aware of the false sense of security that provides.
In a strange way, "the computer malfunction of 2009" did me a favor. It was a real, raw, snap-to-the-present experience. I'm reminded to open my eyes. Watch. Pay attention. Love fully and feel deeply. Participate in my life-- don't merely snap photos and document occasions, in hopes of catching it later.