Friday, September 5, 2014

Sunday column: Letting go is never easy

I remember his midnight curls.
The way his pudgy fingers clenched mine.
His gummy smiles and baby giggles.
The smell of powder as I cradled him in my arms.
Rolling, sitting, crawling.
His first steps, wobbly at first. More like jabs than steps. Or maybe lunges. Falls and fears and tears. He'd tumble and I'd help him up.

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