at night

I sometimes stare at the photo of my holding her. I am always so surprised by her beauty. Her perfect heart-shaped face, her nose that looks exactly like mine. I just can’t believe how truly beautiful she was. How unique. I could stare for hours. Yes, she was real. She was going to be a beautiful, special, precious little girl. A woman. She was going to be the joy of my life.

Another night asleep with her blanket, and a pile of tissues growing around my pillow. How I want her back, and miss her… it’s just something I can barely put into words no matter how often I try.

Author: Mother of All Things

Mother by fostering, adoption, and marriage... wife to my best friend... Bay area critical care nurse... travel in my blood, reading in my bones, clean food on my mind!

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