Swimming in the lake
Bathtime with Daddy
I can sit by myself!
Tracy & Sébastien’s Wedding
He was a surprise, and arrived too soon, and with many challenges. His heart was broken, but they believed it could be fixed, later. In his seven-month, twenty three-day lifespan, I discovered a strength I did not know I had. I discovered I was capable of dealing with a sick child and giving him so much love and the best life I could for the five-and-a-half months we had him at home. He saw his aunt barrel race, he kicked his feet in his grandmother’s lake and in our pool. He was adored by all. I refused to keep him in a bubble, knowing, I know not how, he would not be with us for a long time. No medals, no ribbons, no accolades can ever match the self-respect and pride I feel for handling Austin’s birth, life and death with the grace I did.
Flowers bloom with joy
Nurtured by the sun until…
Silenced by winter
It’s all Merril‘s fault again. I wasn’t going to participate in yesterday’s dVerse challenge because I thought it would be too hard. Then I read Merril’s and decided to go for it. Lillian is the host and she asked us to write about one shining moment in a Haibun WITH a KIGO AND a SAIJIKI – what the hell are these things?
Wednesday is here! And golly gee whitkicker… ’tis my photo this week! Thanks for choosing mine, Rochelle! Woot! (It’s the small things that bring us joy…) Thanks always for hosting, Rochelle Wisoff (no ‘e’)-Fields!
Should you want to join in on the fun, click on Rochelle’s name to get the how-to. Should you wish to simply read other stories, click on Monsieur Frog Bleu !
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Some paths seem longer than others. Some last for 92 years and others only seven months, twnety-three days.
Some are filled with a lifetime of memories, both wonderful and sad. Some are filled with so few, yet mean so much.
Some are so barely remembered, you wonder if they were ever even taken. Some leave an unforgettable mark on all who set foot on it.
Some lead off into many directions, filled with adventures. Some are straight and narrow, leading to what seems only a dead end.
When I’ve reached the end of my path, I want to look back and smile.
I was sort of hoping this week’s picture (whomsoever it came from) would allow me to somehow bring up the twentieth anniversary of my firstborn’s death (January 17). Not because I want to focus on the loss but because I wanted to honour him. Austin was with us for seven months and twenty-three days so, there is the reference above and led me down that “path”. Like his parents, he was a “Smiley-Joe” when he was home with us.