Today is the day. The day for my follow-up mammogram and ultrasound.
A little over a week ago, I received a call following my very first mammogram. They found dense tissue and wanted to take a closer look. That call didn’t shake me—but it did stir something in me.
In the quiet spaces since then, I’ve found myself thinking a lot. About the “what ifs,” sure. About the things I might have to do next. And, if I’m being honest, about the things I might someday miss.
Last week, at my son’s PreK graduation, I asked administration if I could gather the kids for a memorable class graduation picture. Another mom rolled her eyes. I noticed, but chose not to respond. Unbeknownst to her, this picture was for another mama in the class that was missing the day due to work travel.
But now, sitting in this moment—on the edge of results and clarity—I realize it was also for me.
Because what if, one day (hopefully in a very, VERY distant future), I’m not there for a class picture? Or a school event? Or a Tuesday dinner or Saturday Palafox Market morning? Then I want to know that I captured every photo. That I took every chance. That I soaked in every smile, every silly face, every blink of a moment.
Unapologetically.
I know not everyone looks through the same lens. Some people find meaning in different places, prioritize different things, express love in quieter ways. I respect that.
Yet I also know it’s okay—beautiful even—for me to look through my own lens. One full of love, wide-eyed wonder, and a deep desire to be fully present.
Because life really is but a blink. And if I can slow that blink down into a God wink—a little glimpse of something holy, something tender, something worth remembering—then that’s how I want to live.
As I head into today with the unknown lingering, I’m holding on to what I do know:
I love deeply.
I show up fully.
And I will always make room for one more photo.
Here’s to honoring our health, our moments, our memories—through the lens we choose, and the life we’ve been gifted to live!
