Let me remember the tiny moments.
The moment her hand rubs gently across my cheek. And the press of her feet on my thigh.
The sound of her cackle of a laugh.
His ask of me to rub his back.
His voice as he reads aloud to me before the lights are turned out.
Let me remember the way her round hands look cupped around her glass. And her naked journaling under covers after bath.
Their dancing in the kitchen as I unload the dishwasher.
And their tricycle races around the table as we sip wine after supper.
Let me remember his “hey Mom…” and the soft padding of her feet against the wood floor.
Let me always remember that I chose this life.