"When I look back on my ordinary life I see so much magic though I missed it at the time", Jamie Cullum, Photograph.
This lyric never fails but to bring a tear to my eye, and I have already told my husband this is the song I want to play me out when I go feet first. Why do I love it so much? Because it encapsulates just what it is that makes each human experience so unique. Most of us aren't that outstanding on the outside, only a few can be rock stars, actors, presidents and prime ministers, but for each of us life is filled with everyday magic that we are too busy to notice.
I thought I would do my own personal little meme and list some random magically ordinary moments from my life:
Staring into the bottomless pit of my newborn babies black, almond eyes. Knowing that this would be the most profound love affair I would ever have and feeling unbounded excitement at getting to know these brand new people.
The gummy first smile of my firstborn baby. The moment I understood a line from a long forgotten film, when a mother tells her child "You will never know how much I love you".
Looking out at the seasons changing from my bedroom window. Remembering the long days when I lay, beached by my twin pregnancy, the branches stark and black against a sky bleached white with imminent snowfall. Or the acid green shoots of new leaves heralding the arrival of spring, or the foaming white blossom on the chestnut trees that never fails to lift my spirits and make me think of wedding days.
Swimming in the shiny blue swimming pool of the hotel where I got married. Thrilled by the baby growing inside me and my impending wedding. Rushing through the corridors of the hotel on the way to the chapel, dress and veil billowing behind me, silver heels clicking on the marble floor. For once I was living the glamour I only usually see in the pages of magazines.
The thud of one of my sons landing on me, throwing his tiny arms around me for a rumbustious cuddle.
Standing in the garden, hair unwashed, jeans baggy, T-shirt grubby and hearing my four-year-old say: "Mummy you are so beautiful".
Walking to school with the blare of traffic all around us, caught in my own bubble with my six-year-old, discussing what we will explore next in the fantasy worlds we construct together, hearing how he is doing, about spats with his friends and lessons he has learned.
Watching my beautiful blonde twin shove grapes into his mouth as if they were the last food on earth. Seeing him gleefully dribble their juice down his clean on top and hold out a sticky hand for more and more and more.
Watching my sleek, dark twin cling to his daddy, while gently patting his shoulder as if to say "You are my own precious daddy".
Hearing my four-year-old explode into giggles over a joke or tickles or just the absurdity of life.
Watching twin one clamber upright using his biggest brother's pyjama leg to hoist him up, his big brother smiling down at him throughout.
Finding all four boys perched in the twins' two cots, the big boys entertaining their little brothers with songs, games and peek-a-boo.
Discovering the twins, heads bent together at the slats that separate their two cots, trying to help one another figure out a way to post a plastic fish onto the floor below.
Listening to Jamie Cullum in concert last night and reaching down to hold my husband's hand. Marvelling that we are still as much in love today as we were all those years ago when I rushed to marry him in my billowing dress.
There has been much magic in my ordinary life and I try hard not to miss it as I am going along, but I am grateful to this song for reminding me how important it is to catch that stardust as it floats on by.