Those Moments

Those minutes in which one lives centuries always have this sovereign and wonderful property, that at the moment when they are passing they fill the heart completely--Victor Hugo

I read this quote and began to reflect on those special moments, those times which are fleeting and occupy a micro-space, but also seem to last forever and are indelibly printed on the heart, those moments that take up permanent residence somewhere in the soul, yet never seemed to last longer than a millisecond, those events that might appear to be innocuous but over time and reflection become a direction, a goal, or a purpose about which to shape and alter one's life.

These events pass quickly but become an eternity with their impact and power, with their sheer ability to transform and redesign the future, with their funny tendency to remain dormant in the psyche, only to expand and dominate the heart at the necessary time. Potentially sad, certainly comforting, always present, these are memories that we honor and treasure and would never trade nor forsake.

For most of us those events are numerous and go back to childhood, to the little times, when the world was big, frightening, joyous, mysterious, dark and light, loud and soft, high and low; but those events also occurred yesterday and tomorrow for our history is not always long ago but becomes real each passing second, and our response, our judgment, our purpose, is formed by the second that passed by beginning at the beginning. For me the memories lie dormant until I summon them and realize they are not as benign as I originally suspected, not insignificant, nor trivial, but rather are integral to my human makeup. But before being accused of imperiousness and subsequently viewed with contempt for my seemingly ersatz loftiness, there is no question in my mind that all of us are formed from the same type of circumstances, a molding of our character from those special moments that reside in our soul and dance beautifully within our emotions.

I recall vividly the warmth of my father as he gathered me in his arms when I wasn't feeling well or when I was asleep in the car after a trip or after losing a baseball game or when I just needed a hug. I can also remember as though it were yesterday my mother's fierce devotion to providing meals for us, always on time, and always healthy, in an unrelenting desire to create stability for her family. And as I mention stability, it is with wry humor that I remember my Dad's sudden penchant for insisting on normal activities in spite of abnormal conditions! Such as going to see a movie when Mom went into the hospital (which caused a great deal of criticism from outside family members).

Mostly I know that the special times of unconditional love given to me by my family, when I probably didn't deserve it, are the very things that I appreciate the most, and are probably the things that have the most meaning and jump into my life these many years later. And as I write these words, I am reminded to offer the same love and glorious memories to my own children that were given to me by my parents. Never underestimate the eternal power of the hug and the strength of unconditional love that comes from a parent to their children. Such endeavors last a lifetime and extended through generations.