Growing up, there was an older woman, Kitty (Mary Catherine, so the Irish nickname is Kitty), who watched us before and after school and spent a lot of time with my mom, brother and me. She was more like a grandmother to me than my actual grandmothers. She died when I was in middle school. I saw a picture of her the other day, back at my brother's First Communion (back when I was Catholic). It made me so sad that she didn't live to meet my daughter or husband. I hope she would have liked the woman I have become. She always believed in and encouraged me. It meant so much during the turmoil of my parents' divorce. I miss her. I especially think of her every Christmas, as she gave me an antique lighted village. I hope to tell my daughter about her one Christmas as we set up the wondrous, snowy scene.
One thing that I can think about or look at that ALWAYS makes me smile?
So easy...my daughter. I mean I love my husband and smile about him often, but there are times when neither one of us brings a smile to the other's face. I mean, you always love each other, but you are not always thrilled with each other at any given moment. For instance, when the toilet seat is up. Sure, there are days when I just put it down and go on my way, but trust me, there are days where I can't do it even one more time. Luckily, I think of my baby and smile.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment