golden hour

My Golden Hour

Photo by Monica @ Shoots and Giggles

In photography, the hour around the first and last hour of daylight each day is the “golden hour”. The shadows are minimal and the colors are magical. There is even an app that indicates the “golden hour” based on your location.

The hour after our daughter was born was our “golden hour”, no app needed. The doctors and nurses were gone. The delivery room was clean and the huge spotlight was retracted back into the ceiling. No distractions, just pure joy. Our new life had begun and it was also truly magical.

Mama and daughter were skin to skin, forming a connection that would only become stronger as each learned to love the other unconditionally. I witnessed our new daughter experiencing the outside world for the first time, falling in love with her swollen eyes and petite body. And we spent the next hour staring, trying to figure out whose features she had inherited.

Fast forward eight weeks and I now have my own “golden hour”. It is the hour when I get home and it’s just the two of us. I look forward to this hour every day (as does my wife I’m sure). This is our time to “talk” about our day, admire each other, teach each other new facial expressions, and just stare. Regardless of whether she is happy, tired, screaming, cranky, or calm, it doesn’t matter, this is our time.

Well, the train was extremely delayed today (hey, LA, get your act together) and at one point I started worrying that I wouldn’t get home in time before bath time needed to start. (If this is any indication of how I will worry when she doesn’t call upon arrival at her friend’s house in 16 years, I’m going to give myself an ulcer.) And to top it all off, I forgot my phone today so communication was damn near impossible.

But when I got home, the previous two-and-a-half hours didn’t matter anymore. There were my two ladies, waiting for me. Mama and baby were ready for our new “golden hour”. Mama gets a reprieve and I get to bond. Our routine works great right now, and I wouldn’t change anything, but I am also aware that things will change as we all grow, and I look forward to it.

In a year or so, “golden hour” might be practicing walking and learning all the new possibilities that upright transport opens up. When she starts kindergarten it might be practicing letters and numbers. In middle school it might be arguments over algebra or explaining why she doesn’t need her own iPhone. And in high school there will be many days without our “golden hour,” and I’m sure that will be okay.

During that hour all the day’s shadows disappear and the light in her eyes is magical, and I’d like to keep it that way.

What is your “golden hour”?


Comments

6 responses to “My Golden Hour”

  1. I really enjoyed reading this and could relate to what you were saying as I became a dad in April of this year. Coming home from work and seeing our son smile is just such a special feeling no matter what the day’s been like!

  2. Thanks Jonathan! She isn’t smiling just yet, but her cooing is awesome.

  3. I learned about the “golden hour” while in film school, and I think it’s a great metaphor to use for that gorgeous but brief time we sometimes have with kids. I’m a stay-at-home dad, but I think it’s still a principle that’s useful to think about, since there are ideal moments during the day that are just uniquely suited for a “special” moment, whether after bath-time, or while taking a walk to the park, or during story-time. Bur even for the stay-at-home parent, I still think that those waning evening hours right before bed can still be crucial. The rest of the day might be crazy errand-running, or doing laundry, or letting the kid watch a movie while you do the dishes . . . but ending the day right is something I don’t often do well, even though it can make such a difference.

  4. Thanks for sharing Neal! I work from home once a week and I can definitely relate on a very small level to the craziness that can occur during the day as I often get very little done those days, but still enjoy my hour in the evening.

  5. […] This post originally appeared at Forty Weeks Later […]

  6. […] you for refocusing me at the end of the day. I remember when my “golden hour” with Isabel was the little time between arriving home and her going to sleep. That time was […]

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