Moments

This morning, before leaving in the wee hours for bishopric meeting, Brandon placed a hungry baby in my arms. And for the tiniest moment the two of us lay in bed, Max and I, with his little body snuggled up tight. His toes were in my stomach and his wispy blond locks were tickling my nose. And he was snoring, little adorable baby snores that remind you they're alive.

And do you know what, life doesn't get much more perfect than that.



There is this feeling sometimes where I feel like I need to hold on so tightly to someone so that I can absorb them deep into my gut.
Like if I squeeze them tight enough I can keep them forever. And the more I think about it the tighter I squeeze. And a hug doesn't seem strong enough to hold them. And I don't want to breathe for fear they might disappear, yet I'm taking deep breathes just trying to suck them in.

I get that way sometimes.

That's what love is you know. It's wanting to keep that person with you for always. Wanting to hold them for always, to hear them for always, to see them for always.

I am so grateful for my testimony of for always.

That I get Brandon for always.
And Kameryn, for always.
And Cooper, for always.
And Landon, for always.
And Max, for always.

That for always they will be mine. Because I don't think I could bare only having them for a little bit.