My wanted drawer

Sometimes I want to freeze time, stop it and put the moment in a drawer.
I'll open the drawer now and then in the future
to have a look what's inside
and to give it a gentle stroke,
to close my eyes and relive the moment.

Facebook showed me a 2-year old memory of Kabouter and myself both asleep on a plane. I wish I could take out that memory from the drawer and feel his breath and the warmth of his little body leaning on my belly again.

Tonight Beertje's eyes were falling heavy while in my arms.  "Shall we go to bed?", I asked. He nodded no.  "Shall we sit a bit longer together?" With his last bit of conciousness he nodded weakly. His eyes lids dropped and then opened slightly again to glance whether I was still there.

I know these moments will become rare and I want to put them in a drawer because the knowledge that there will be a point in time when neither one of my boys will fall asleep in my arms anymore seems so painful.