Earlier this week, I moved everything out of our living room to paint it. I lugged some of the stuff down to the basement, but most of it I just repositioned in the hallway. When I was done, the hallway looked like a smaller, cozier version of the living room, complete with rug, crib, and TV.
This afternoon, I was finishing up in the living room and I peeked through the door into the hallway. Amy was pulling a toy horse across the rug, and Jada was giggling as she chased after it. I stopped for a moment to watch. Because the door was closed but it has windows in it, I could see them but not really hear them. It was like a TV moment: in slow motion, with schmaltzy music as the soundtrack.
As Amy pulled and Jada giggled, I couldn’t help but get a little sentimental. For some reason, this image seemed familiar to me. I wonder if it wasn’t something I had dreamed in my head when I first thought about having a family someday, an image of something I had wished for when I first started to fall in love with Amy and thought about having a family with her someday. Again, I couldn’t help but get a little sentimental.
Best of all, this was no TV moment, no wistful dreaming. I opened the door and immediately the image went from mute and slo-mo to volume and regular speed. It was like a dream come to life. I hugged them both tightly and thanked God for making my memory of the future come true.
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