I think of my children

This morning I had the joy of drinking coffee in my bed with two of my kids and one of my grandkids. We snapped a picture, as we often do, because we want to make memories together. We missed out on the first 16 or so years together, and now we treasure all the moments that we share.

We have all had experiences of all kinds up to the present moment. We’ve celebrated and we’ve suffered. We’ve gained things and we’ve lost things.

That’s life. That’s how life works. A happy moment can set us up for a sad moment, when we no longer have the person that made it happy.

I think of my children that weren’t born… the children I wanted so badly.

I think of my children now, and realize they are the ones I was hoping for. That other reality wasn’t ever really an option.

I think of my children that grew up here and moved away. They are the ones for whom this house is a memory. It’s the place where their childhood happened, and it’s now a very mixed bag of memories.

I think of my adult children, my children that didn’t make it to birth, and these precious children that are here now.

Everything changes, all the time.

You see, I was the kid climbing in bed with my parents. It doesn’t seem that long ago.

Leave a Reply