a long time ago

My father keeps on telling me that he can remember my birth "crystal clear," even though it was nearly 33 years ago. But my own children's births are starting to drift into the past. Farthest away is Marta's, all the way back in 2003. It was a cold winter. I remember poking her in her stroller to see if she was still breathing (and when she cried, I knew that she was). To think that little baby is the same lanky eight-year-old that is running around these days. Then Anna. I remember exactly when she was born, stroking her little neck in the post office in Tartu a few days later, that little chubby face. But, alas, the post office is no longer there, and our "Tartu period" is long behind us.

And now Maria -- this was the most recent one, so it doesn't seem like that long ago. But a lot has happened since: I went to San Francisco and Montreal, in December we were in Egypt, in January San Diego. In March, Maria and Epp went to the Canary Islands and Marta and Anna and I went to New York, Orlando, I went to Charlotte, NC. Then this past month we had Greece, and I went to Copenhagen, Munich, and Nuremberg. And here I am. It's only July 3. Life keeps steamrolling along. I need to take time to remember what has happened, so that I later do not forget.