May 21, 2016


                                                                                 Circa: 1995 (DHB: 7 years old. ACB: 5 years old)

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 (Annaclaire). 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. 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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