Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Sleeping Angels

My girls are leaving for a few days to spend the holiday with their dad. It's always a sad time for me, because whenever they go a part of me goes with them. I miss the feel of their touches, even the constant chatter of their high, piping voices. I miss the scent of their hair.

This morning, they were each curled up in bed, knees tucked into their chests. The curve of their cheeks is so sweet, it hurts. I am filled with the knowledge that each and every moment with them is unique and mortal. May they come home safely.

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