With the click of the shutter I was no longer looking at my baby, the one who toddles about the house singing to herself, the little girl who calls my mother Mam-Mam. Rather time slipped forward, lurching heavy and fast, and she was some sixteen years older and about to step out of the house and into those first tentative moments of adulthood. Sadness and joy wrapped about me and I was unsure if I should laugh or cry. I do not want a moment of our life together to go unaccounted.