My Timehop app is killing me.
I downloaded the app to my phone after I saw several friends sharing their own Timehops on Facebook. Each day, Timehop reaches back into your old Facebook and Instagram accounts (or whichever accounts you give it access to) and then delivers you an “on this day four years ago” type of notification. Why not, I thought. Who doesn’t like a stroll down memory lane?
Monday’s Timehop was a video from five years ago of six-month-old Maddie sitting on Jerome’s lap in our old kitchen. She was swatting at our cordless phone which lay on the countertop, making the phone spin in circles. Maddie was laughing one of those deep, from-the-belly chuckles that only a baby can muster. She barely had any hair, but her eyes were already deep and expressive just like they are now. Jerome was a few pounds heavier and, okay, maybe he had a bit more hair back then. He looks like a younger, more naive version of himself. I remember that day so clearly. I’m sure I could have stood there at that countertop recording my sweet baby Maddie for hours. I’m sure I was smiling from ear to ear as I watched her play with that phone and listened to her laugh that joyous baby laugh. My Maddie. I miss that baby, I miss that laugh, I miss our naivety as parents, and I even miss those countertops. My eyes fill with tears as I press play again and again. Five years ago. Where has the time gone?
Yesterday, Timehop delivered this to my phone:
I’m sure you’ll recognize my Katiebug. I look at this picture, and my heart hurts. I even think I might… yes, I’m sure of it, I can feel a longing in my uterus. Look at that sweet baby, celebrating her first St. Patrick’s Day. Look at that face! Those chubby legs! That perfectly round, sweet face! Those cheeks, just begging to be kissed! Right away I recognize Katie’s soulful eyes, already so much a part of her. I remember this day so clearly. She was lying on our old bed in our old house on that blue comforter I never liked. I stood above her, snapping the picture, trying to freeze that moment in time, but knowing that I couldn’t. Right after I took this picture I’m sure I scooped her up and held her tight. I’m sure my arms were aching to hold her; they always were. She smelled like baby lotion and Dreft. My Katie. Oh, I miss that sweet baby, I miss those legs, I miss that face, and I even miss that old blue blanket I never liked. My eyes fill with tears as I stare at the picture. Where has the time gone?
You see, my Timehop app is killing me.