Cataloging the past
Time moves like wind through the grass, ruffled by moments, sometimes sleeping, sometimes vibrant. And suddenly, here I am. I'm 33 until my next birthday. I've got two kids and a husband. I'm settled and settling continuously. I'm not really sure how that happened. I've been staring at the faces of my past this afternoon, rifling through moments caught in the snap of a lens. Some of these people are as familiar as my own shadow. The moments and memories exist, still, in the corners of reality. I catch their laugh on my lips, I feel their breath in my hair, I see their dimples on my cheeks. They are part of me and separate from me all at once. I search the frozen moments close, taking in the fine details of uplifted smiles and distracted fingers. I am acutely aware there is someone behind the camera, probably making funny faces, probably exasperated that the children won't look all at the same moment, probably bursting wit...