I Folded a Tiny T-Shirt and Felt Time in My Hands

Dear Delyara, It was one of those shirts that still looks smaller than the child wearing it now. Faded at the collar, soft in the fabric, carrying the memory of many washes and whole seasons of my life. I folded it and had that strange mother-feeling again — the sense that time does not always pass loudly. Sometimes it passes in laundry, in sleeves, in elastic waistbands, in the way clothing shrinks against memory while the child inside it stretches toward someone more independent every month. I put the shirt away and felt emotional in a way that had nothing to do with washing. Maybe that is why domestic life can be so overwhelming. It is not only practical. It is full of evidence. Everything in the house proves that time is moving whether you are ready or not.