When I experience moments of quiet connection with myself or with my loved ones...I call them magic. They are the moments that don't happen all the time, so when they do, you take notice. It's usually when Harrison stops playing for a moment, climbs in my lap and touches his forehead to mine. Or when my husband and I are in the same room, doing separate things, and he looks over and smiles at me. They can take your breath away, bring tears to your eyes, or just make you smile from the inside out.
Today's magic moment was sitting in the car with Harrison outside of the baby store. I like to watch him when I give him something new to eat, so I sat in the back while he ate his alphabet cookies. He would take a tiny little bite and then offer me a soaked bite of mushy cookie. I would oblige and thank him profusely. He took such a delight in feeding me for a change. We sat back there for quite some time while the rest of the world buzzed around us. It was quite. I was totally present, memorizing every detail of his little face and gestures for my memory bank. Nothing else mattered. It was just me and him...eating cookies.