One day the baby gently sat his little blue dog in his booster seat and offered it a piece of pancake. 

The memory should already be fading, but when I bring it up I almost choke on it — an incapacitating sweetness. 

The memory throbs. Left alone in time, it is growing stronger. 

The baby had never seen anyone feed a toy a pancake. He invented it. Think of the love necessary to invent that… An unbearable sweetness. 

The feeling strengthens the more I remember it. It isn’t wearing smooth. It’s getting bigger, an outgrowth of new love.