"Beren said something so sweet, but I can't remember what it was," I say. If only I could remember it all.
Upon considering my 10th year of marriage, I observed that there were far more times that I forgot than remembered. Photographs are helpful. They center memories around a time that seemed important at the time of picture-making.
I might forget this trip to Brooklyn Bridge Park without the photograph. I certainly wouldn't recall Jared's squint against the grey clouds or Beren watching a family pass by.
Jared might remember the trip. The ultimate destination was a community garden where we'd attend the wedding celebration of his very first friend in life. Or, he might remember every time he sees a Pier 1 store. While I planned the day's activities - drive into Brooklyn and then explore and have lunch in the park, I repeatedly exclaimed how excited I was to go to Pier 1. Jared thought I was talking about Pier 1 Imports, and I knew I was talking about Pier 1 of the Brooklyn Bridge Park.
Tenth year of marriage, still working on communications. Possibly, it's more important than ever, now that we know each other so well and have a child.
I might remember the fun slide with the beautiful stone steps at Pier 6. A light dusting of sand from sandplay areas coated each step. We felt as though we finally found the best playground at the very last pier. On the second trip up the slide's steps, Beren slipped on the layer of sand. He was propelled downward on a thousand tiny sand-wheels, and I could hear the impact of his face on the stone.
"Oh no, oh no!" I grabbed him and hurried down the steps. "Oh! Oh!" I wish I could control the exclamations that come from my mouth when Beren's hurt, but I hardly can.
Jared wrapped his arms around us. "Oh, Beren! What hurts?" He couldn't speak through his cries and gasps.
We found a bench along the main pedestrian thoroughfare at the park's end. We three huddled. Comfortless, Beren sobbed, "Nummies would help." I tugged my shirt up, and he nursed.
I wondered who might notice us, who might know we were nursing, who might notice this big kid nursing, who might say something. It's Brooklyn, I thought. Who cares? You never really know, and I'll take one for the team. Besides most people have no idea that a woman is nursing. Really.
We left Pier 6, banged up and bit defeated. The afternoon hadn't been the treat we wanted. Oh well, I suppose I could forget about it, if it weren't for these photographs. And if it weren't for one of Beren's front teeth that turned a touch greyish after this outing.