Perfect Moments

Posted by Shelly Kramer on November 20, 2009 · 18 Comments

We all have them. You know, when your mind flashes back to a special moment, in a special place in a time, and you smile as you wander back through that lovely spot. The problem with perfect moments is that sometimes, in the craziness that comprises our daily lives, we often forget to etch them on our brain. Or sometimes we forget how easy it is to pull them back out and delight in their perfectness all over again. And they have such capacity to bring us joy – it’s truly tragic to not allow them to do so.

I’ve had several perfect moments lately. Like eating the best french fries I’ve ever had – in my whole life – with the one person on the Earth who loves food as much I do. Or watching the most perfect of perfect sunrises and knowing you’ll remember it forever. Or having my four year old run inside, after a day of raking leaves with her daddy, and saying “Mommy, Mommy, the leaves are ready!” Ready for what, I asked. And she replied “Well, ready for jumping, of course!” Of course! How could I have forgotten that leaves are for jumping. I will remember her sweet face and the excitement in her voice, about what was, for her a perfect moment, for the rest of my life.

I remember a dinner date I once had, on a snowy December evening, when the restaurant’s windows were frosted over, the atmosphere was filled with the sense of happiness and conviviality that infuses the holiday season. I had on the perfect black dress, my favorite black boots and a vintage coat that is still to die for. I don’t remember what I ate (rare for me, I know), but I remember every other part of that magical evening. I remember I felt special. And beautiful. And loved. And in love. I didn’t end up sharing my life with that person, but that doesn’t mean that it’s not still a perfect moment. When I stop back to reflect on what was going on in certain stages of my life, that moment is often a perfect memory that I haul out, roll around in my mind, smile wistfully at and then put it back away.

Although he doesn’t know it, my step-dad, from whom I’d been estranged for many years, once provided me with a perfect moment. After spending the afternoon watching me interact with my then adolescent daughters, he looked at me and said “You really grew up good. You grew up to be a fantastic person and a great parent.” I’m pretty sure I waited what felt like my entire life to hear my dad ever say anything like that to me, and every now and then I replay them all over again in my head and revel in how wonderful they were. Especially coming from him.

And yet another perfect moment was recent. One of my little ones snuggled close to me, heaved a contented sigh and said “Mommy, you smell like ….. a MOMMY!” What more lovely compliment could she have ever given me? Yup, another perfect moment.

So, you see, we all have them. They probably happen more often than you even realize. And when they do happen, will you do yourself a favor and put them in a place where you’ll remember them? Etch them firmly upon your memory banks so that you can savor them forever – it only takes a moment. Life goes by blindly fast and, sometimes, it is those perfect moments that make it even more worth living. And I’m pretty sure that once we are all old and frail and maybe even forgotten, it might just be the ability to reflect upon and revel in those perfect moments that bring us happiness. What are your perfect moments?

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Filed under Ramblings · Tagged with happiness, life, living, love, moments, perfect

http://ItStartsWith.Us Nate St. Pierre

“Leaves are for jumping.” Best line in here – almost made me tear up.

I've been sitting here for five minutes trying to think of my perfect moments, and I keep coming to only two conclusions (that's not the right word, but perhaps you know what I mean):

1) I can think of a bunch of good moments from my life RIGHT NOW, like in the last week – moments tucking the kids into bed or running around outside with them . . . but nothing from the past.

2) I can think of a bunch of good moments from my past, but they're very generalized . . . simply amalgamations of any number of moments of that type, mashed into one very general picture of a memory.

I honestly can't look back through the years and pick out many snapshots of time. Hmm.

Now I'm a bit sad.

Beautifully written post, Shelly.
http://twitter.com/barineau Keith Barineau

Most of my perfect moments revolve around my two sons. I was a first time father, first time ever being in a delivery room, with my wife, as she lay there cut open. We had some complications during “normal delivery” that forced a c-section. I was standing there, filming my wife's face, some of the doctors… but staying away from the display of internal organs. Next thing, I hear a baby screaming, and the nurse says “Dad, we have a beautiful baby … “. She wanted and expected me to yell out “boy”, but I was so moved by that moment of seeing him, seeing my wife's face, grasping her hand, and being hit all at once with becoming a “real family” that I could not even get a sound out of my mouth. I remember trying, as tears rolled down my face… and with all my might, I got out barely a whisper that only my wife heard… which was “it's a boy”. My heart exploded right then and there. There was no greater moment in my entire life leading up to the birth of my first son.

I had a perfect moment tonight with my 3 yr old. I put those glow-in-the-dark stars and planets on his ceiling above his bed while he was taking a bath. I didn't say a word about it. He didn't even know I bought them. When it came time for bed, he came running to get me. The look on his face was absolutely priceless. He yelled out “come, Imma show you… come look”. I walked with him into his room, and his face was bursting with joy. He pointed up at the solar system to show me. Then I told him to lay in bed and watch what happens when I turn off the lights. That was round 2 of total amazement and wonder… he was so excited.

I had a perfect moment when my second son was born. The moment wasn't during delivery, but was when he was getting his vitals checked. He was laying there in that clear plastic crib under a heat lamp, screaming his head off. I put my hand over his entire tiny little chest… and he stopped crying! That moment, it was like a bond was forged. I remember every detail… his eyes shut tight, his chest heaving up and down as cried so hard, his limbs stiff and extended up and out… then the peace and calm that happened after I put my hand on his chest. I remember his eyes opening. I remember leaning down to kiss his forehead.

Aside from my kids, I had a perfect moment in high school – many years ago. This was about 19 years ago. I was a senior in high school, heavily involved in music; I played trumpet. News came that a famous jazz trumpeter was coming to Florida State University (where I live) to do a 1 week workshop with a small select group of high school students. They had auditions, and I made it! I spent 1 week with a group of about 10 people talking, joking, rehearsing with and then performing with the great Freddie Hubbard. Sadly, he passed away last year. But the moment of performing with Mr. Hubbard, a jazz legend, was simply amazing.

Memories like these are so sacred, important. And you think you'll never ever forget every little detail. But sadly that's not always the case. My grandmother and mother both have Alzheimer's, and they forget so many things. Can you imagine one day not being able to remember the joy your 4 yr old daughter experienced that day as she lept into that pile of leaves? That memory is so precious.. worth so much more than any material thing.. the moment so totally perfect. Having the memory erased would be a theft of epic proportions… an unthinkable crime.

I often wonder if Alzheimer's will affect me one day, and to be honest, I'm terrified of losing memories. It is such a debilitating disease; it's really sad to see it unravel. Anyway, sorry to turn my comment into a total downer. I didn't start off writing this comment thinking I would focus on Alzheimer's.

Anyway, I'm going to keep living my life and enjoying my family and hope for the best. Perhaps I will have the great fortune of living to a ripe age and still having the ability to revel in all the perfect moments I will have accumulated over the years.
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ShellyKramer

Thanks, Nate. The “leaves are for jumping” comment made me a bit teary-eyed, too.

Don't be sad, just try and make it a point to start remembering some of your perfect moments – and I know that you, of all people, have many.

Big hug,

Shelly
ShellyKramer

Wow, Keith. How lucky am I to call you friend. Your post made tears roll down my face one minute and made me laugh out loud the next. When I first wrote this post, I asked at the end for readers to share their perfect moments with me, and then I deleted it, thinking it too presumptuous. The fact that you shared these precious events and things that touched your heart means more than words can adequately describe.

Again, I'm honored to call you friend. Thank you for reading and thank you even more for sharing.

Much love and I'd hug ya if I could,

Shelly
jilldesenashook

My perfect moment was hearing my son say “Mommy I love you with all my dreams”. I have never heard it put that way. That statement by my little 5 year old was perfect.
http://twitter.com/joycecherrier Joyce Cherrier

Great post Shelly and made me think of dozens of mommy moments that happen that cause me to giggle later. Little things like love notes, crayon drawings and finding toys shoved into the toe of my shoe.

But I have to say my one moment was back in the days when windsurfing just started (yes, I'm that old) and my girlfriend and I met these two guys on a Maui beach. I hadn't started windsurfing yet and they had a tandem windsurf board with two sails. We all four sailed from Maui to Molokai and even had dolphins follow us for awhile. About 45 mins later we landed on the beach, hung out for the afternoon and explored, sailed back and had sunset dinner at a beach cafe. It was the most perfect day ever. Even my husband hailed the guys as heros! Began my love of windsurfing for a lifetime and a hundred more adventures.

A wonderful post SK and thanks for helping me remember the important things in life. Great way to start the day!
ShellyKramer

Oh, how precious is that. I love you with all my dreams. Think I'm going to remember that one, Jill. Very sweet. Kids are beyond words amazing, aren't they?
ShellyKramer

Thanks JC. Your post made me remember yet another of my perfect moments, when I went deep sea fishing with veritable strangers I'd met by chance during a visit to Mexico. Dolphins, whales, secret caves that we explored while diving, and how could I forget the coral that I happened onto, which is still evidenced by the scars on my left leg. Yup, those are precious for sure and I can only imagine how great your windsurfing adventure was – and look what a lifetime of enjoyment that chance encounter set you on. Love it.
fjfonseca

First of all, next time you refer to your writing as “sappy” I will be jumping on a plane and hit you. [Friendly chap, ain't I? ]
Now that we got that out of the way…

I think that the importance of this post surpasses the description on your perfect moments. Not that I don't find it beautiful that you share them with the world and, with it, show us a bit more of who you are as a (wonderful) person.

This post is like a pause button. It's the best analogy that I can find. A pause button to the soundtrack of our life, where so many times – due to one reason or another – we loose focus of what really matters.

At the end of the day, those perfect moments are what keep us going even if sometimes we are led to think that its all the other things that do.

Like, most of us, have *that* place where we feel at home we all have perfect moments that we can hold on to when rain and thunder are feeling up our senses.

Thank you for reminding us all of it, Shelly.
ShellyKramer

Well if all I have to do is say “sappy” to get you on a plane to come and visit, I'll say it often, FF. I loved your “like a pause button” comment and wish I'd thought of that. And it is so important to pause, from time to time, and hit “rewind.” You are a lovely writer, as well as a lovely friend – thank you for making time to read and comment. I heart you mostest.
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http://twitter.com/AmyOscar Amy Oscar

Funny you should post this now: Just this week, I've started sorting through a huge box of photos that I found hidden away in the attic.Now that my kids are both in college, I thought I'd give the place a good cleaning but I found myself sitting on the floor surrounded by American Girl dolls; “LIttle House on the Prairie” books; two binders filled with Magic cards and a lifetime of photo albums. To say that I've been swimming in memories would be an understatement.

Here are my earliest and most precious:

I am standing in the nursery holding my newborn son, his head in one hand, his tiny diapered bottom in the other. I'm rocking and singing to him when his eyes pop open and he looks me straight in the eye. I have known you for all eternity, I realize, tears rolling down my cheeks.

Two and a half years later, Christmas Eve. My daughter is three weeks old and I am desperately exhausted. I've been knocking myself out trying to fit this precious new child into my life. But each time I hold her I feel guilty that Im neglecting my son. I feel as if Im the worst mother in world. And now, sitting in the car as darkness descends, I am trying to get my fussy, hungry daughter to nurse. She is wearing a bright red stretchy and I've wrapped her inside my down coat against my belly. I flip on the radio as the song, “Lady in Red” begins. Suddenly, I am sobbing, overwhelmed with emotion. I make up a little song and sing, tears streaming, as she begins to nurse. “Katie in red is nursing with me… nobody here, just you and me… where I wanna be..:” That's when my little girl reaches for me, tapping her tiny hand against my breast. She nurses, I sing.
ShellyKramer

Oh, now, Amy … that made me cry. Such precious memories – thank you for sharing. Funny, I think that often most people's “perfect memories” revolve around “firsts” with children, which is totally understandable. My hope is that in addition to those lovely perfect moments, that people will begin to also reflect upon those perfect moments that just occur in the course of day-to-day life – and not necessarily around a “big” event. Think that's possible? Thanks for the read, my great friend, and for sharing your babies with me.
debdobson

Ahh my friend, this is one of the most beautiful posts I've ever read. Thank you.
ShellyKramer

Thanks Deb. My heart is quietly singing because of your lovely praise
http://www.redheadwriting.com The Redhead

You're right, Shelly – after I caught a nap, this hit home Thanks for sending along a great read on a day where I needed it most. You're an incredible friend.
ShellyKramer

Right back atcha, missy. Would hug ya if I could.