What I Want to Remember 4.4.20
Snuggles on the couch with our Storybook Bible before breakfast every morning.
Workbooks and coloring and “school” around the table each day.
The smell of sourdough starter and freshly baked bread.
Sweet peels of laughter and guttural screams of frustration.
The commiserating texts, video chat girls nights, and “stay healthy” email sign offs.
Sweet signs of friendship between my kids.
Front porch deliveries of eggs, books, candles, and baby wipes.
The potty in my pantry, bikes on my driveway, and legos in my bathtub.
The range of emotions that can occur in the course of a day, an hour, a minute.
The way the sun seemed brighter, the sky seemed bluer, and the new shoots of grass seemed impossibly green this spring.
The way time slowed down, and life felt more precious, fleeting, and sweet.
