I moved her baby blankets into a closet out of view.
I touched baby headbands and baby bows and reminisced about the times they were worn.
I stroked the fabric and smelled the sweetness of outgrown little girl clothes, breathing in the moments that are no more.
I fought back tears.
Watching my children grow is painful and wonderful...and painful.
4 comments:
Oh you are so right... sigh...
I hear ya, sista! I feel the same way, especially knowing Allan is going to be my last child.
This post made me cry.
I know...maybe Krista can have a baby so we can sorta get our fix!
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