The Moments that Matter

We should have been upstairs getting ready for bed. Instead we were spinning and falling down dizzy and giggling uncontrollably.

It was one of the best moments of my day, definitely worth delaying the bedtime routine a bit.

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Yesterday my Mom brought a stack of cassettes over. She also brought the little Playskool tape player we had when I was a kid so we could listen to them.

Some were full of songs and stories I listened to all the time growing up. Others had a collection of random recordings, including my early French Horn playing days and sound effects from a presentation I did in 5th grade (what?!).

I put on KidsSongs 2 while I cooked dinner. That tape was practically the soundtrack of my childhood. I found myself singing along, remembering the words of songs I haven’t heard in years.

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Natalie looked at me funny and giggled when I broke out dancing in the kitchen to “Rockin’ Robin”. And when “La Bamba” started to play I couldn’t help but text my sister who danced to that song countless times with me.

These are the moments that matter.

Moments to remember a beautiful childhood and the songs that bring it all back.

Moments to reflect on the wonder of life; my own daughter is twirling around the room to the same music I danced to when I was not much older than her.

Moments to laugh and sing and dance and be silly with my little girl, letting go of the day and whatever else it brought.

After dinner, when we should have been getting ready for bed, we put on more music. She pressed the buttons and talked into the microphone and asked for another song and I couldn’t say no.

Then we spun around together, holding hands, falling into a dizzy heap. She laughed that perfect belly laugh that only a little child has, and I laughed along at the pure joy of it all.

The moments that matter.

 

 

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