The hours passed, chasing fairy wings, crying over mismatched clothes and sand-filled shoes. Knowingknowingknowing that I should enjoy every bit of the 45 minutes it took to walk 10 feet, remove every “hurry” from my mouth.
The fairy princess waltzed across the grass, owned the world around her, asked to walk up the big stairs by herself.
I thought of the day they’ll all be gone. Because they will.
I yearned for a bigger pocket, a bigger purse, a bigger heart to carry them in.
I shattered when the little one patted my hair, my face. Placed sticky fingers against my cheeks, hugged me with spit-up covered arms.
Shattered again at bad news from my oldest, and again when listening to Oklahoma funeral plans.
Put myself back together with shoestrings and Silly-Putty when the fairy princess belted out the blessing for the entire restaurant to hear:
God is great.
God is good.
A ketchup-covered french fry halfway to her mouth.
Let us thank Him
For our food.
So be it.
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