Last night I showed Arlo and Alamae this video. Halfway through, Arlo began to cry.
Because Alamae isn't a baby anymore.
Because she can't go back.
Because time only moves in one direction.
When I used to teach my students about tone, I explained that nostalgia was like being homesick, but for a time, rather than a place.
Arlo cries and begs for it to stop or for it to operate like the other three dimensions, moving forward and back at will.
I want to cry out too. To keep him curled up next to me. To be able to visit this moment again one day. When he is a father himself. When he has moved away. When he no longer a four year old boy discovering.
One Year Round from rachel weaver on Vimeo.