Rattled
poem
Sometimes, holding a dish towel, I feel the urge to drape it over my shoulder then drape my baby boy over the towel, and pat his back while singing to him. But he's twenty-one now, taller than me, and I can't lift him that high anymore.
Sometimes, holding a dish towel, I feel the urge to drape it over my shoulder then drape my baby boy over the towel, and pat his back while singing to him. But he's twenty-one now, taller than me, and I can't lift him that high anymore.
Reminds me of the Robert Munsch book, Love you Forever.
…Like you for always,
As long as I’m living,
My baby you’ll be.
I get that feeling, it seems, everyday. One daughter is now 26 and the other is 22. I don’t think that feeling ever goes away💜💜💜💜
A