I remember a life without Emily, I remember when it was just me and Oliver waiting for daddy every afternoon.
I remember mostly the struggles, as always – the mind is a bit stupid that way – the times when Alex opened the door and I’d pass Oliver to him and crash to the floor crying, because everything felt too much and I felt I wasn’t really ready to be a parent. I then discovered we never are.
But when I look at photos like this, everything else comes back, my little boy and I ready to conquer the world (or the backyard) together like a perfect team. The slow walks. The long minutes observing ants, or a waterspout. The hours working while he slept in the pram next to me.
I’d love to be able to close my eyes, and see and feel one of those day all over again with the same intensity I lived them.