Until that time, here is my picture-less post.
This morning was book club.
The book we read, "The Last Lecture."
I had heard the book mentioned many times before.
I hadn't read because I thought it was by the same guy who wrote
"Tuesdays With Morry."
I figured I had been there, done that.
In fact, it's by a former college professor, of Carnegie Mellon ladies.
He is deceased.
The book was in essence his last lecture as a college professor
and mainly was designed by him to provide a living example for his children,
all very young during his illness and subsequent death.
I finally found a book I love as much as "The Book Thief,"
and I've been looking and reading for several years now.
(The Help came close.)
So definitely DO read it if you haven't already.
It's wonderful.
On the way home, just yards from the house we had our meeting at,
Jr. spotted a park.
Whenever he spies one he calls out, "Momma, slide."
I'm a sucker for this kid.
He can have almost anything he wants.
So I set aside my desire to return home and do my chores
(dishes, laundry, more dishes, unpacking still!)
and we hopped out of the car to play at the park.
After fun on the slide,
(shooting down it 6 or 7 times)
Jr. noticed the swings.
He normally doesn't last long in them.
But, these were the Big-Kid Swings.
Even my 2-year-old son knows how cool it is to be a part of something
bigger than you!
So I pushed him on the swing.
When he chanted, "High, high,"
I explained he couldn't go higher
because this was a big-kid swing.
He might fall off.
Then I thought I could just put him on my lap
and we could swing up as high as the sky.
These are the moments when life presents us with memories to be imprinted
on our hearts, if we take the time to allow the process.
I hope to never forget the following five minutes.
We swung together, "high, high,"
while he said, "wee, wee"
as we glided back-and-forth.
Then we got even higher.
(I was carried away, literally,
by the moment!)
Jr. started to giggle.
I found myself giggling too.
It's times like these when I say to myself:
Brooklyn Kaye Papa, we lived this particular day -or moment- for you.
We can't wait to meet your brave soul in heaven.
Love you and your family.
-The Belnaps-
The book we read, "The Last Lecture."
I had heard the book mentioned many times before.
I hadn't read because I thought it was by the same guy who wrote
"Tuesdays With Morry."
I figured I had been there, done that.
In fact, it's by a former college professor, of Carnegie Mellon ladies.
He is deceased.
The book was in essence his last lecture as a college professor
and mainly was designed by him to provide a living example for his children,
all very young during his illness and subsequent death.
I finally found a book I love as much as "The Book Thief,"
and I've been looking and reading for several years now.
(The Help came close.)
So definitely DO read it if you haven't already.
It's wonderful.
On the way home, just yards from the house we had our meeting at,
Jr. spotted a park.
Whenever he spies one he calls out, "Momma, slide."
I'm a sucker for this kid.
He can have almost anything he wants.
So I set aside my desire to return home and do my chores
(dishes, laundry, more dishes, unpacking still!)
and we hopped out of the car to play at the park.
After fun on the slide,
(shooting down it 6 or 7 times)
Jr. noticed the swings.
He normally doesn't last long in them.
But, these were the Big-Kid Swings.
Even my 2-year-old son knows how cool it is to be a part of something
bigger than you!
So I pushed him on the swing.
When he chanted, "High, high,"
I explained he couldn't go higher
because this was a big-kid swing.
He might fall off.
Then I thought I could just put him on my lap
and we could swing up as high as the sky.
These are the moments when life presents us with memories to be imprinted
on our hearts, if we take the time to allow the process.
I hope to never forget the following five minutes.
We swung together, "high, high,"
while he said, "wee, wee"
as we glided back-and-forth.
Then we got even higher.
(I was carried away, literally,
by the moment!)
Jr. started to giggle.
I found myself giggling too.
It's times like these when I say to myself:
Brooklyn Kaye Papa, we lived this particular day -or moment- for you.
We can't wait to meet your brave soul in heaven.
Love you and your family.
-The Belnaps-
1 comment:
Jen - I loved this post. I am crying reading it. :( Thank you for your letter too. You are a true friend. We can't wait to see Brooklyn again! xo
Post a Comment