From Carolyn Parkhurst's novel, Lost and Found:
No one ever loves you the way your children do when they're young. No one else will ever cry when you leave the room. I try not to spend too much time thinking about those days, because I know they're perfect only in memory, and I know I need to focus on the girl I've got in front of me right now. But sometimes I can't help but give in to it, to live inside the warm hues I've colored those moments with. To remember what it was like, back when she smiled just to see me, when she needed my help to move a spoon to her mouth or to walk down a flight of steps. Back when she had to reach up to hold my hand. Back when she thought I could turn on the sky.
Some days, I miss my babies.
Not every day, but some days.
1 comment:
then they will be older and you will miss running around the park and playing in the leaves.
carpe diem.
(if you know one for "seize the job," send along, please.)
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