Maybe I don't clean out the closets as often as I should...
The tiny tees and the frilly dresses
The worn, hole-ridden jeans
They all seem so small, and I wonder at how you got to be so big.
Maybe I forget some of the stuff I've "hidden" away
At least Jacob, claims I hide things
I'd like to classify myself as an organized-piler
Problem with piling things away is sometimes, you find them when least expected
The dark purple KSU socks meant to cover tiny feet
Tiny feet that now tread the streets of gold
Maybe I don't call as often as I should
And maybe it's because every time we talk I miss you like the first time
I wish you were here, but I can't picture myself there
And I'm sorry
Maybe I'm just hormonal
But when I watch you hold him
I have to blink back the tears
You're such a sweet big-brother
The way your eyes gaze at him and how he stares back at you, your sweet "hi-baby"
Why do we talk with such sugary-shrill voices to newborns? Do they hear us better?
Maybe I wonder how she would have changed our lives
But mostly I'm just thankful
An honest reflection of me- in fragments. Imperfect- Grace Covered. Balance. Mom. Wife.
Nurse. Homeschool Teacher. Christ follower first. Second changes. Thankful.
Nurse. Homeschool Teacher. Christ follower first. Second changes. Thankful.
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1 comment:
i get it.
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