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I want to remember the little things. I want to remember picking flowers, touching fingertips, and the sun, wind, and rain in our faces. I want to remember the way he inhales when he prays and the way he exhales when he laughs. I want to remember the look on his face when he opens the door, when he takes my picture, and right after he says "Amen." I want to remember crying on the staircase, and I want to remember Bowen Island adventures. I want to remember sitting in corners with books, burnt breakfasts, and quiet conversations. I want to remember our mornings, our afternoons, our nights, and our 4 am's. I want to remember the little things, because they are just as beautiful and powerful as the big things. I want to remember the little things, because they are the things that are ever-changing; reminding us that we need to place our feet on solid ground. I want to remember the little things, because when you try to count them, they make the blessings seem endless.