@brittarnhild
It is the last weekend before Christmas. The weekend to be busy cleaning the house, making the last cookies and other goodies in the kitchen, write the last Christmas cards, and slowly, slowly start thinking of decorating the house for the coming holiday. Last night Leander was here for his first time. As I hold him, he had his eyes open, looking around. A new little boy in the world with so much to learn, to discover. After a while it was obvious he was tired, and as his mamma and pappa, his tante Marta and his bestefar were busy watching handball on the television, I let Leander rest against my bossom, singing him a few of my favorite children songs. "Can life be better than this?" I had to ask myself, and I knew deep in my heart that the moment was a sacred one.
Soon he was sleeping deeply and my mind wandered. Back to other moments with a newborn in my lap. A first son. Then another one. A first daughter. Then another one. Nieces, nephews.
The sacred moments. Do we see them when they are here, or can we only recognize them when looking back, when they are displayed against a background of days, weeks, month, years passed?