HOM and i look thru our old photos. our salad days when J1 and J2 are little and vulnerable and then when they are bigger and vulnerable. when we have S and G before E.
strange how things are so real and then you file them away neatly and try to forget quickly.
strange how memories stay subliminally docile and then suddenly like gossamer the old pain comes by to revisit.
strange how the sight of them scrawny kids twists your heart into all sorts of unplanned for protectiveness. dash them old photos.
No comments:
Post a Comment