From the Vault: Baby Adessa in the Backyard

That's from Monday, June 11, 2007... you were just five months old. I can remember that day so well, sweetheart -- it seems uncanny. Mommy had laid out that quilt for you to play on in our backyard. It was a perfect day, warm enough for short sleeves and the grass cool and inviting to lay in. We've laughed a lot about how big you were when you were born -- which is true! -- but it's easy to forget how little you still were at this point... notice how your tiny fingers can barely close around my thumb. You were well into your "everything-goes-in-the-mouth" stage by this time -- Mommy brings her hand down and you immediately reach to put her finger in your mouth. Look at your true blue eyes, your sweet little baby grins.


It isn't until years later that you realize how much you miss moments like these... and how glad you are to have reminders like videos, pictures, and even the outfit you wore, the quilt you laid upon, and the toy you were playing with. This video is brief, but I am so, so glad to have it.


OK, I confess that I used to grow impatient after "too many" photos, feeling like a couple was plenty and anything more than that was just redundant. Now I realize how wrong I was... and am so happy that Mommy insisted upon taking so many photos and videos. I also realize that this is hardly a unique epiphany... it's the same realization thousands of fathers before me discovered, but you don't quite "get" yourself until you truly understand those days are never coming back.


These days, I find I've become "photo compulsive" myself, taking pictures of you constantly, wanting to make sure I don't miss anything for posterity, I guess. As you grow older, I suppose you may also grow a little impatient with all the photos. But I hope that one day you, too, will be glad for all the photos as you can look back at times, places, and people you will have been too young to even remember. And then we can look back at these pictures, together, and I can tell you about what we did, where we went, whom we met, and how much all these times with you meant to me.





Daddy