Simple Moments

I'm feeling sappy today.

The simple act of buying holiday cards always leaves me with a broken heart. We can't buy Father's Day cards, or cards for our "Parents", or for "Grandma and Grandpa" only cards for Mom/Grandma. Luke, Ellie and Will, will never get to sit in their Papa's lap or hear his laugh, or see him smile with pride at their cute little faces.

It's Valentine's Day, hug your loved ones, sit your kid in the lap of their grandparent, kiss them goodbye. It's the simple moments that we remember and hang on to.

Junior Bees

Precious cousins having fun. The shirt, I'm sure, will be worn by Luke in the near future. The innocence of it as just a t-shirt in the eyes of a child and the warm message it sends to the world, break my heart and fill it with memories of love all at once.

Sap

I think I'll let the lyrics speak for themselves tonight. This song gets me everytime, why I listened to it at work today I have no clue, thankfully I had my tissues handy.

Oh the joys of sad country songs. Daggers to the heart.



















Look at the two of you dancing that way
Lost in the moment and each others face
So much in love you're alone in this place
Like there's nobody else in the world
I was enough for her not long ago
I was her number one
She told me so
And she still means the world to me
Just so you know
So be careful when you hold my girl
Time changes everything
Life must go on
And I'm not gonna stand in your way

But I loved her first and I held her first
And a place in my heart will always be hers
From the first breath she breathed
When she first smiled at me
I knew the love of a father runs deep
And I prayed that she'd find you someday
But it's still hard to give her away
I loved her first

How could that beautiful woman with you
Be the same freckle face kid that I knew
The one that I read all those fairy tales to
And tucked into bed all those nights
And I knew the first time I saw you with her
It was only a matter of time

But I loved her first and I held her first
And a place in my heart will always be hers
From the first breath she breathed
When she first smiled at me
I knew the love of a father runs deep
And I prayed that she'd find you someday
But it's still hard to give her away
I loved her first

From the first breath she breathed
When she first smiled at me
I knew the love of a father runs deep
Someday you might know what I'm going through
When a miracle smiles up at you
I loved her first

For One More Day

It was about 2 or 3 years ago, I was standing on the street corner with my boss at the time and the director of the Museum, it was a mid-March, chilly, almost-spring-but-still-winter day. The Mayor, our State Senator, county supervisors and other dignitaries were also in attendance, it was the big unveiling of the cities cultural insititution traffic signage (how we never had signs directing people to The Hyde or the Wood Theatre for so long I'll never understand, but I digress). There I stood, tv reporters, and news writers were taking statements from Senator Little (a woman I've known most of my life as her kids grew up with me and my brother), Mayor Regan (a close political friend of my father's), and the county supervisor who beat my father in the last campaign. I snapped the token pictures with the sign and those that made it happen to tout the accomplishment in our next newsletter. I felt the emptiness, it was so heavy in the air swirling around me. If my father were alive he would have been there. He would have helped to make this happen. He would have been beaming, showing me off to his politician friends, so happy that I was home from New York City, working in Glens Falls and actually using my degree.

I was wearing my Hyde badge, some women from the county said, "oh, you're Tom's daughter, he was a great man." They smiled that sympathetic, "I'm so sorry" smile and then the awkward silences followed. I congratulated the Mayor and my father's succesor. At that moment a fire truck went flying by, charging for Warren Street, lights flashing, sirens blaring. I felt him, he was there in the sirens saying, "you guys did it, I'm so proud of you!" My brother was driving that truck, his childhood dream was to be a fireman and there he was racing through the streets and I, the little girl who would copy the comics on Sunday mornings was working for the most beautiful little museum that we're so lucky to have in our tiny city of 16,000. We're doing what we love to do in our hometown that we adore. We're contributing to the community with pride and doing our best to to do so with honor and integrity.

I caught the end of Oprah today. It was about the new made for tv movie, "For One More Day". I was of course holding Luke and sobbing. John came home and the three of us stood in our living room, crying, hugging and swaying as Nick Lachey sang "An Ordinary Day"...I'm paraphrasing here, but it's something like, "if I had one wish, it wouldn't be for fame or money, it would be for an ordinary day with you".

If *I* had one more day I would want to go back to that streetcorner scene with my father in tow, when it was over we would hop in his car and surprise-pick-up Jacob and Will from school and my mom, Tom, Kristie, and John from work. We'd rush home to a wonderful meal with all of us around the dining room table (somehow Luke would be inserted here even though it was a day in the past, let's let go a little, eh!!), the boys would play throw and catch in the backyard and the girls would watch in awe at how lucky we are to have this family.

Edited to add: That I'd also like a walk down the aisle, I've always wondered what he would have said to me at that moment. Okay, that's enough sap for awhile!

Bless my heart

Luke has decided the last month or so that getting up between 3 and 4am is okay. Oy! He was peacefully sleeping through the night for a week and I thought for sure we were on to something. We had our routine down to a T and were rewarded with 8 or 9 blissful hours of sleep and quiet. And then he switched it up again. Haha joke's on us I guess. I've come to wake just prior to his squeals and yelps, we're in tune to each other's wakefulness. I dread getting out of bed (although John usually gets him and brings him to bed for me) but I also cherish those early morning quiet moments of mother-son bonding. The one thing that can soothe him back to sleepytown is the comfort of me, our bellys touching. More often than not I stare at him quietly nursing away, his tiny hand proudly covering his little heart while the other is in a fist, thumb saluting like a hitch-hiker. He pulls off, stares up at me and smiles a smile that I know is saying "I love you too, thanks for the drink mom, I'll see you in an hour!"

He won't be this little forever, I know I will miss these early mornings...the decadance of a solid nights sleep certainly doesn't trump sweet baby love.