Dear August

Dear August,

Today is a rainy, grey day... a little chilly so we stayed in bed under the warm blankets, just a little longer today. Morning is my favorite time with you, when the day is new and you are all smiles. We took a walk downtown to the coffee shop, and Frances decided to follow us halfway before we walked her back home.  It must have looked funny, to see us walking down the street with our cat close behind. You love going on walks and looking up at all the new leaves on the trees.  Now, we are home, and you are sleeping in your room, warm and cozy in the crib your papa built for you.  I remember the night he brought it home, and we sat in your nursery and tried so hard to imagine the little soul who would come to live with us.  That night I told Papa..."I think this baby is coming soon"...and, sure enough, my water broke a couple of hours later, and we drove into the night to meet you.  

I love you, my darling boy.

Love,

Mama

More than I can hold

The air smells like lilacs... sweet perfume.  I can't get enough. I bring them inside by the armful, and arrange them in vases... lilacs are everywhere... we are breathing lilac air. I remember going to my grandparents home as a child in the spring. Grandpa Alvin would always cut me a big bunch of lilacs to take home...lavender and white and plum colored... more than I could hold.  

There are moments when I don't know if my heart can contain all this love... love for my son and my husband, love for my grandfather, the beauty of family, the fragrance of spring.  It's more than I can hold.

April came and went

April came and went, and here we are somewhere in the middle of May.  Easter turned into Mothers Day it seems overnight. I found my old green teacups, August found his toes... baby shoes were made, stories read (my new favorite book is Charley Harper ABC's... amazing artwork), Mimi and Tatu came for a visit, seeds were planted, songs sung.  The days spill over with possibility.  But, the sweetest time is spent staring at little fingers and toes, rocking on the front porch, watching spring unfold... every moment a gift.