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Wednesday, June 20, 2007


I watch her closely as she sleeps, this young woman napping on my bed. Her breathing is steady, and the way her hair falls across her cheek... who is this person, this stranger, who seems so familiar? Her voice on the phone brings back memories from my childhood. The way her smile lights her face – I’ve seen her before, in another place and time. Somehow this woman has carved out a place in my life, and my home, and the little girl who used to live here has gone.

I watch him closely as he stands there talking, excited about the song lyrics on his new CD. His hands remind me of something. Someone. I note his shoulders and the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. There’s a man living in my house – a stranger, who took up residence shortly after the little boy left in the night. His laugh is deep and familiar.

I hear her steps on the hardwood floor as she sleepily trudges down the hall. They echo in my heart and transport me back in time. The lilt of her voice, even the breaths between phrases and the excited way she talks. I remember. Her hands, her fingers, long and slender, they remind me. She too, has snuck in -- taking the place of that little princess I used to tuck into bed so many nights ago.

My children, with so little of the child left in them, are a photo album before my unsuspecting gaze -- a long lost recording of voices I thought were part of previous generations. Every day, in them I am reminded of my grandmother’s eyes, my sister’s laugh, my brother’s stance, my grandfather’s chin and my mother’s hands.

How wonderful is it that though those little ones have all but disappeared in the passage of time, today, in each one, I get to see the pieces of those who came before. These precious babes who have lived in my heart since the day they were conceived, and will only live in my home for a few more short days. They are becoming -- changing before my eyes.

They will journey into tomorrow, and one day, as they gaze upon a new generation of children, they will see these same pieces – the smiles, the eyes, the fingers and shoulders – being carried forward down the road of our family. And, like me, they will remember.


Kathleen aka Coffee Mom said...


MidnightMom said...

Beautiful writing...how I long for the days of creativity--but for now, my tumbling words more closely resemble a journal. Loved this...except...it breaks my heart. As wonderful as the future will be, I am not yet ready to lose my "babies". But time passes anyway, doesn't it? Reading your blog always makes it seem as though it will be a wonderful phase when it gets here. :) Hugs to you, me

SingForHim @ Real Life said...

What a beautiful piece. I can feel this happening in my own family, even though my children are so young. You make it sound beautiful instead of scary.

childlife said...

TaunaLen -

Oh, how you make me cry! I know this moment is coming in my own home. Even though I have never read it before this moment, the story you have written here is the very one that has haunted my footsteps every night as I savor each bedtime kiss, attempting to treasure them with every ounce of my soul. Thank you for giving me a glimpse of the future beauty that is to come.

Deb - Mom of 3 Girls said...

Oh this is beautiful! I know that I have to treasure every moment that my kids are small because they grow up all too fast...

melody is slurping life said...

Beautiful and heartfelt words. I loved reading it.

The Surrendered Scribe said...

Beautiful, exquisite, and that season will be here before I know it!

lynnae @ from under the clutter said...

So happy and sad at the same time!

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