Sunday, May 4, 2008



"One day I counted your fingers and kissed each one.
One day the first snowflakes fell, and I held you up and watched them melt on your baby skin.
One day we crossed the street, and you held my hand tight.
Then, you were my baby, and now you are my child.
Sometimes, when you sleep, I watch you dream, and I dream too....
That someday you will dive into the cool, clear water of a lake.

Someday you will walk into a deep wood.
Someday your eyes will be filled with a joy so deep that they shine.
Someday you will run so fast and so far your heart will feel like fire.
Someday you will swing high-so high, higher than you ever dared to swing.
Someday you will hear something so sad that you will fold up with sorrow.
Someday you will call a song to the wind, and the wind will carry your song away.

Someday I will stand on this porch and watch your arms waving to me until I no longer see you.
Someday you will look at this house and wonder how something that feels so big can look so small.
Someday you will feel a small weight against your strong back.
Someday I will watch you brushing your child's hair.
Someday, a long time from now, your own hair will glow silver in the sun.
And when that day comes, love, you will remember me."

'Someday'
by Alison Meghee and Peter H. Reynolds

My mom sent me a wonderful, poignant book about the innocence of childhood, the wonderment of raising your children, and the growing up that happens to us all. The tables were turned when after reading this book...and re-reading this book to Isabelle and Allie, that Isabelle saw me well up with tears and as a few fell down my face she became very concerned...she was patting my back and saying...."It's okay Mommy...don't cry". They grow up so fast...it just isn't fair.

2 comments:

The Ludwig's said...

What a sweet book! The pictures you have placed with the words fit perfectly. I found the book on Amazon and have already bought it! Too cute!

Linda B said...

Hi, I love all of your comments with the pictures and the one of her splashing in the water. THe poem fits the girls and a mother perfect.