How can I lean into the past with full confidence that these dreamy memories will sustain, if only I could have one more day from Then?
My memory lies to me in this aspartame haze, brazen untruths of my reality.
Oh how high was that angst and constant questioning of each unsure and reckless step.
Yes, yes, I do certainly know there were moments of wonder and light. But it cannot compare to the weightless joy in my singing heart with the bouncing sweet legs of my daughter over my own.
There is a Then that was, but now is the Then that is, that sings.
1 comment:
What a perfect way to describe the wisdom that only comes with tears and age. :)
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