Caught up in daily duties, it's easy to forget the value of each particular moment. I just looked at a photo of myself and my son playing in the snow in our back yard this past winter. The look on his face--pure joy--made me realize how significant to him that play time was. For me it was just another snowy day. For him it was strange-cold-mystery-powder that you could eat, wad up into a ball, and dive into. For me, thirty-one years old, it was just another demanding Cleveland winter. For him, eighteen months old, it was the wilderness. We probably only went out to play--really play in the snow, not counting going outside for trips to grandparents and the store--half a dozen times that winter. Too cold for the little guy, too much work to get dressed, don't want him to catch a cold, we used all those excuses. But when I look at that photo I realize he'll never be eighteen months old in the snow again! The winter of 2004 is gone forever--glad we enjoyed it with him like we did--wish we'd done even more...

It's not just another winter, it's not just another summer--each year, each season has its own identity in your memory, like a friend you once knew. Make it everything you can, because that's how you'll remember it forever.
Mitch Hedberg.