I carry her in my heart

Jan 02

Tonight I watched as Maren sat on the kitchen island counter.  She swung her legs a little, and she chatted with Brad while he chopped and prepped veggies for dinner.  I noticed that her size six pajamas are creeping up her ankles and wrists.  Eventually she pulled out her read-at-home school books and read to him as he worked.  She asked him for help when she...

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Jan 01

Milestones are funny things.  They pass the time.  Sometimes it seems like time flies, other times like time slows and nearly stops.  The same event can be both a blink and an eternity.  It reminds me of a flowing river: such different experiences: on a boat, on the shore, in the water, wading.  There are so many perspectives to see the same things.  I pray that I...

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Though they be but little

Dec 19

‘Twas a great ending to my day.  I had one girl on each knee, we rocked in my favorite chair, I read to them.  We read more than the standard two stories because we were happy.  They were clean and I inhaled their sweet smells.  Maren exclaimed, “I remember this book from when I was a little girl.”  I smiled with the knowledge that she is still a...

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Life is hard, but God is good.

Dec 01

I am afraid my cancer is going to come back. It is hard to admit: I am afraid. I want to be filled with faith and confidence and joy and oblivion.  I want to be strong and brave.  So soon after receiving my NED status, I want to be all frolick-y and happy dance-y.  The fear is sneaky; it doesn’t get to me all the time.  I work against the fear, but it lurks...

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Nov 27

Today I wished: I wish that I had kept up with some type of baby book for M & G.  I want to write their baby-hoods down (in words and pictures) while I still remember them.  Lucky for me, it’s not too late.  They are still babes.  I re-discovered my passion for story-telling this year.  One photobook (storybook?) each for Christmas; I can make that wish...

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Maren: fivinuhhaf

Nov 21

Maren’s kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Heart, began calling the children (the five-year-olds) writers the very first week of school.  Some, like Maren, could write their own name, but others were still practicing.  Yet, Mrs. Heart called them writers: she called out their identity, and the twenty-four little people in the class are rising to the challenge and...

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