Today was one of those days I’ll frame in my memory for the days in the distance that don’t begin, end and revolve around taking care of little people. I know now that I’ll never stop thinking about them, loving them and worrying about everything from scrapes and cuts to improbable what-ifs, but one day the relentless and delicious process of bathing, feeding, teaching, protecting and entertaining these girls will end.
One day they’ll be chasing dreams and loving people and places and things. Without us. They’ll call from time to time, visit when they can, and hopefully they’ll remember us. Maybe they’ll find us in brilliant yellow leaves that do pirhouette after pirhouette as they travel from treetop to sidewalk or as they pass a stone patio
We made promises to autumns yet to come, safekeeping today’s memories in the changing leaves and the smell of November’s eve. I’ll look for them wherever I am, knowing that a canopy of orange leaves overhead can transport me to a time when I carried our girls in my arms and felt the flutter of another in my belly.