You’re eight months old now, which means I have to stop buying frozen pizzas in bulk at the market and telling the grocer that I have a newborn at home. Because Bee, you are no newborn. You’re a kicky, squishy, squirmy being – one that your father and I are trying our best to keep up with. And in celebration of the massive personality you’ve grown into over the past few months, we wanted to capture your spirit in a more visual way in today’s letter:
I’ve always loved the metaphorical nature of time capsules, hidden and buried into the depths of the earth. The same soil that produces life and death and seasons and growth and change are also keeping our memories safe, preserved for years to come. So today, for the sake of posterity, we’re launching a virtual time capsule into the depths of the Internet for you. We’ll have less dirt beneath our fingernails, but just as much meaning when we uncover our capsule years from now.
I can’t wait to see how everything will change. And how, somehow, it will have all stayed the same.
p.s. Friends – if you’d like to make your own time capsule, the folks at Capsoul are kind and wonderful and have built an amazing service to do so. Go forth and bury those memories – no shovel necessary.