Pausing at a photo from an ordinary day

In our kitchen, there is a wall-mounted Echo Show. It is an Alexa with a screen.

Not only does it display the weather and my schedule, but I can also access information about the children's school bus and control the lights all over the house from here.

But that is not where its true value lies for me.

When not in use, photos of my family appear on the screen. This is the feature I like the most.

It randomly pulls photos saved in the linked account. It presents them in a casual way, as if saying, 'How about this?' or 'Here's another one,' and none of them were chosen by me.

A photo of the whole family taken during the first autumn after we moved into this house. Back when the children were still so small.

A photo of myself from three years ago, before I started jiu-jitsu. My physique looks a little less reliable than it does now.

There have even been times when two photos of my son wearing sunglasses appeared side by side. One from when he was one year old, and one from when he was five. I found myself staring at them, wondering how he could have changed so much in just four years.

Every photo captures the atmosphere of that day perfectly. The moment I see them, sensations I thought I had forgotten come rushing back.

And today, one photo suddenly appeared.

It is a photo of me eating at the dining table while carrying my daughter in a baby carrier. She was about six months old, tucked snugly against my chest.

A paper napkin is resting lightly on top of her head. I don't seem to mind at all, and I am carrying pasta to my mouth, reaching right over her head.

Seeing that, I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

She was still too young to be left alone, but she would cry the moment I put her down. In the end, eating with her secured in the carrier was the most peaceful way. However, after spilling food a few times, a 'paper napkin on the head' somehow became standard equipment.

I think that was the most rational thing to do at the time. It was a modest trick to keep life running smoothly.

Looking at it now, I can't help but laugh. But my daughter didn't mind at all, accepting the situation as if it were perfectly natural.

I had completely forgotten that there were days like that.

The photos shown here are not ones I chose myself. They are fragments of life, left uncurated.

That is precisely why unexpected things sometimes slip in. A photo I had already forgotten, or a scene from daily life that had no particular meaning.

Yet, it is those very things that sometimes catch me off guard.

For just a moment, I think, 'Ah, there were days like this, too.' That alone gives the time I am in right now just a little more depth.

(The End)