I have been thinking about these kids a lot.
Reflecting.
Thinking.
dreaming of holding this baby |
I always heard that being a parent was like watching part of your heart leave your body and walk around without you.
It is.
It is all true.
And the older the kids get, the farther my heart walks away.
And it is sad.
And I am happy for them.
And it still hurts.
And the worry sets in.
Did I say enough?
Did I love them enough when they were babies?
Do they know that they can ALWAYS come home?
Always.
my baby girl with the sweet sweet smile |
And mixed in with the worry is the gut wrenching job of being the bad guy.
We are the meanest, strictest, most nosey parents on the planet.
And as much as I mumble it is because we love you, it is never heard.
As much as I YELL it is because I LOVE YOU, it just can't be heard.
the smell of that skin is only a memory |
These are the days of peer pressure, alcohol, GPAs and kids that speak only half of the time.
How did that happen?
Where are my babies?
Do they remember that I love them?
my heart |
But I can never back off completely.
They are my babies.
They will always be my babies.
will sleep in our bed forever |
And I will never give up on making sure they know we love them.
Even if I smother them a bit.
Or a lot.
Because it is my job.
And because it is not possible to live and be missing 5 parts of your heart.
1 comment:
tears. streaming down face. must go hug my babies.
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