I felt pretty left out at first. There were comfy blankets and lights and all things fancy filling up the living room of my forever home, and I had no part in it. So I watched, as I do a lot, as beauty unfolded right before my eyes.
It turned out the visitor to our home was here to photograph dear baby Conner. I watched in awe as she took her time to place him just so. As she did her best to get dear Carter to embrace what she was doing. As she captured precious moments in my family. And then it happened.
She grabbed out a teeny tiny knit hat that looked like a dog. But there was more to it than that.
“I did my best to have it look like Wiley,” she told my mom. And in that moment, my heart skipped a beat. I watched as she carefully placed the hat on dear Conner’s little head and posed him as she had done before. She asked me to get in the shot and I was more than happy to oblige.
In that moment, in my minutes in the spotlight, I felt silly for feeling left out at the beginning. I felt silly for feeling left out ever, really. Because in that moment I was reminded again of the value of family. Of the importance of being together, being present, in moments like these. They are fleeting, but that they happen at all is something to be cherished.
So I watched, as I do, as beauty unfolded right before my eyes. And as that happened, I felt it. Joy. From the ground up, it lives in things like that teeny tiny little hat.