A word of advice: Take pictures. Take pictures, take pictures, take pictures. And not just pictures of kids in their jammies at Christmas – those go okay in a high school scrapbook, but they don’t tell the story. If you don’t start snapping, before you know it, you’ve decided to leave the primary place your children have formed meaningful relationships and you don’t have a darn tootin’ picture of them giving their friend a hug or playing out in the yard. You don’t see their goofy grins eating popsicles with the neighbors (heck, you don’t even have a picture OF the neighbors) or listening to a lesson at church. There’s no visual record of their evenings spent at small group with kaboodles of children, begging for a snack and watching a movie.
My photographic log of our time in Troy looks pithy at best. I may have logged plenty of pictures of the baby wearing the girls’ dresses at home, but it’s not a what we’ll remember most about our time here. We take with 
us the sunny days at the park after school pick up. The games, and even injuries, of the playground. The million and two margaritas from La Fiesta on a much-needed girls night.
I’ve spent some time in our other vehicle, where I keep my RENT soundtrack, listening to “the number song” as the children call it. I had a significant conversation with H Boy about it when he asked what they were singing about. Of course, I teared up when I explained that the best way to know if we’re living a good life is to look at how many people you love and how much you love them.
Looking back now at our time in Troy, I could look at the hours I spent at meetings for a local foods co-op or the people who reinforced my belief that closer is better. I could track the board meetings or the people who shaped me to be more like Jesus. I could 
give thanks for an organization that values childhood in education or I can remember the teachers who shaped my children and the parents of other children who cherished mine as well.
And so, dear reader friend, take more pictures. Take pictures of the people you love and take pictures of you living life with them. Give yourself a true measuring stick of the way you spend your days and years instead of depending on Facebook for a collage of beloved friends. Four years can go by so quickly when they’re filled with people, not simply minutes and hours.
Seasons of Troy
Two million, one hundred and two thousand, four hundred minutes
Two million, one hundred and two thousand, four hundred moments so dear
Two million, one hundred and two thousand, four hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure four years?
In pick ups, In drop offs
In wine nights, In cups of coffee
In inches the kids grew, in laughter, in strife
Two million, one hundred and two thousand, four hundred minutes
How do you measure four years of your life?
How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love.
Two million, one hundred and two thousand, four hundred minutes
Two million, one hundred and two thousand, four hundred picnics to plan
Two million, one hundred and two thousand, four hundred minutes
How do you measure four years of this woman and man?
In truths that she learned
In times that they cried
In campfires he burned
Or the recipes she tried
It’s time now, to sing out
Though the story never ends
Let’s celebrate
Remember four years of life with new friends
Remember the love
(Oh, you got to, you got to remember the love)
Remember the love
(You know that life is a gift from up above)
Remember the love
(Share love, give love, spread love)
Measure in love
(Measure, measure your life in love)
Seasons of love
Seasons of love
(Measure your life, measure your life in love)