It’s still dark outside.
I walk in right on time.
Well, maybe a minute early.
So that I have time to watch her sleep.
She looks just like the toddler she used to be.
Except now her bed is bigger and so is she.
Today is my son’s birthday.
His 17th one.
And for the first time ever, I’m not with him. I can't hug him more than he wants me to. I can't tell him, again, the story of his birth. And I can't bake him a birthday cake from scratch. (Oh, right, I wouldn't do that anyway.)
I’ve had a long President’s Day weekend of being by myself for extended periods of time. And I’ve really enjoyed it. (Probably more than I should have.) But today it’s all coming to an end. My husband is back from his ski trip. The kids will be coming back from their dad’s house. And life...