I rocked my baby tonight.
I really wanted to read more of Dick Francis’ The Edge.
and to shop for vintage books online.
I wanted to research Alfred Meakin’s
or sew Olivia’s windmill quilt and to fancy different ways to quilt the final product.
But I rocked my baby instead.
I should have unpacked from our Labor Day trip to the cabin,
or emailed a woman about starting a Book Club.
Perhaps paid some bills
and put a clean handtowel up in the bathroom.
But I rocked my baby instead.
I rocked her because every time I rock her in her light blue room,
I look at her half-open doorway with faint light spilling in from the hall
and see a 20-year-old girl standing there,
looking at me, saying,
“Mom, have you seen my book?” or “Mom, can you drive me back to college tomorrow?”
And I realize that one day
I will never rock my baby again.
7 comments:
Sad and beautiful all at once.
So true April. It goes by so fast, cherish the time she's this little and wants you to rock her.
H
so sweet! you captured the moment well in this entry :) have you had your pic take with little O in the rocker. That one would be a keeper :)
I thought you should know this made me cry.
It is so hard sometimes watching them grow up. On one hand you are proud of them/excited for them, on the other you just want to keep them little and safe in your arms forever.
-JEss
Nice April, nice. You should save this little gem for an Olivia scrapbook, etc.
Aww, do you have the book I Love You Forever? This makes me think of that book. So precious. :'-)
I was wondering if you would please find a little tissue icon to place in the tops of blogs like this. It was beautifully poetic as well as very true. I love your writing, April!
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