I want to carve this image into my mind. This perfect moment in time, the small blonde girl, the curls at her neck tossed by the wind as she runs through the wildflower meadow, her sunhat held carelessly in her hand, sweeping at the buttercups. Her face is grubby with the games of the day, her mouth chocolate smeared from birthday cake, for a moment her questions stilled.
She holds up her hand and we walk together down the lane, the evening rays of sun still warm on our faces, a half moon risen in clear blue sky foretelling a cooler night. I have her borther held to my breast and I’m trying desperately to find a way to capture this feeling of closeness and contentment with my younger childer.
(Transcribed from a handwritten post.)
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