Time in a bottle

There are moments locked in time, in recent memory, that are as rare and precious as each breath I take.
The combined laughter of my children and myself.
Dancing with the one I love.
Hugs from teenage daughters that don't hug all that often anymore.
The wind in my hair after a hard day that wore me down.
Another's hands preparing dinner.
Baby Chicken looking at me after we watched a scene on TV where the teenage son looks at his Mom and says, "You're a good Mom", then turning to me and saying the same thing.
Embarrassing the Oldest Chicken while mimicking her dance moves in the car on the way to the high school.
Laughing at something (God, ANYTHING) Middle Chicken says.
So on days when I just want to bang my head against the brick wall, kick the door, and scream until my lungs collapse, I'll pull these moments out and wrap myself in them as a cushion between the wondrous beauty of parts of my life and the stress that tries to cling to me and bring me down like quicksand.
*humming Jim Croce*
Grins*