Monday, November 22, 2004
all of the people I once was are still inside me
I'm a parent, responsible for the happiness and the very lives of three children. I go to bed at night thinking about them, and whether or not I've done a good job for them today. I check their rooms and kiss them and hope that they are dreaming sweet dreams.
But sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wake up from a deep sleep and feel as though I'm still in my parents' home, in bed in the room next to theirs, and think about whether or not to go in and tell them that I had a bad dream so that I can snuggle close to my mother and feel her warm breath on the top of my head as she sleeps.
It's so real to me I believe that I really am that little girl, looking for safety in the arms of my mother.
I'm a parent, responsible for the happiness and the very lives of three children. I go to bed at night thinking about them, and whether or not I've done a good job for them today. I check their rooms and kiss them and hope that they are dreaming sweet dreams.
But sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wake up from a deep sleep and feel as though I'm still in my parents' home, in bed in the room next to theirs, and think about whether or not to go in and tell them that I had a bad dream so that I can snuggle close to my mother and feel her warm breath on the top of my head as she sleeps.
It's so real to me I believe that I really am that little girl, looking for safety in the arms of my mother.
# posted by becca : 1:17 PM
