those moments

This morning Fischer was in the high chair in the kitchen while I was baking cookies and my Dad was throwing together a meat loaf for dinner tonight. We were all three laughing. I can't even remember what over, but it was the kind of moment that I don't ever want to forget.

Dad was stealing spoonfuls of cookie dough while he asked me what I thought about tossing the left over pumpkin puree (from bread I made the other day) in the meatloaf (which we did). Something we both know we won't tell anyone about until after they eat it - a mini-secret that doesn't really matter but so does at the same time because it's what we do, ya know? Dad and I. In the kitchen. Laughing and scheming over dinner plans. So simple, right?

Those moments. 

After finding out about the loss of a loved one in Jeff's our family earlier this week I'm slowing down and appreciating these moments. I'm willing them into my memory. Carving out the space by letting go of stuff that doesn't matter and filling my heart with the things that do.

Like laughs in the kitchen with my Dad.