kids
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To love a child
If you could relive a single day what would it be? Today, a week after my son’s wedding, I’d chose a magnificently ordinary day: He would be 5 or 6, young enough to still call me Mama. Old enough to ride bikes to the Library. Past Jefferson School. Past the Brunner’s house. To the downtown library where we’d rifle thru the cubby of new books and admire the fish. Afterward, we’d stop at Tess’s Twist across the street and spin on the twirly stools while we slurped ice cream cones. The outdoor counter service ice cream shop has been long gone and, incidentally, the property now boasts Father’s Fats where…
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I blinked
Wasn’t it yesterday that we forgot the chicken in the microwave? That day when the nurse called to tell me that my strep test came back negative, but my pregnancy test came back positive, and in our delirious excitement we neglected the chicken thawing in the microwave for dinner, forgot about it until breakfast, and went out for celebratory pizza instead? Didn’t that just happen? Wasn’t that baby just born, that sweet pink baby that kept us up at night, that toddler with the infectious laugh and lively eyes, who learned to ride a bike, then mow the lawn, then shave? How can it be that, days ago, we dropped…