i’ve been thinking about this space and the stories it tells.
more specifically, the stories i have in common with my children.
how i would love to get it all out here.
i would love to get the feedback from others.
i would love to feel like i was painting a “real” picture.
but whose story is it to tell?
sure, i have my side of things and they have their side…
but these kids have things going on in their lives that they want to keep.
things that make them crazy mad and numbingly worried.
things that make me feel like my world is no bigger than their angst.
and don’t we all?
i have my circles to fall into and process these stories.
but here, i will be witness to their joy.
i will offer evidence of their balance.
maybe it’s a happy place of sorts.
like a story book with certain pages paper clipped together,
it’s all here.
(these photos were taken on my phone by said children being d.o.r.k.s. in the thrift shop)
thank you for this reminder of home.
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soon?
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I love your children’s deep faces and souls, and I know they can fly because of you. Even as dorks. I always read what you write twice. You say so much, so well, with so few words. And I don’t want to miss a thing.
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ditto, ditto, ditto.
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