As a writer, I am a chronicler.
In my office, I have shelves and shelves of journals that archive different chapters and adventures, including falling in love with my husband, our honeymoon, trips to St. Barth's, France, Hawaii and beyond.
I have journals that document Pregnancy #1 (David) and Pregnancy #2 (Annie). Of my most prized possessions are two baby journals that record phrases, sentences and perspectives of the children as they grew up. The journals are joyful remembrances of being a young mommy and continue to document the life-journeys of #1 and #2. (I just updated my son's journal with the news, "David H. got engaged!")
While straightening up a shelf recently, this card slipped out. I can't figure out what the occasion was.
While straightening up a shelf recently, this card slipped out. I can't figure out what the occasion was.
It wasn't Mother's Day because my husband is acknowledged.
It wasn't Father's Day because I am acknowledged.
In any event, the card and the sentiment are absolutely precious. As are my beloved children.
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