. . . hold her in my heart

. . . On the calendar day: simple candles, rushed and late at night, her eyes half-open, shivering in not-quite-dried running clothes, hair still damp with rain and effort from her meet, but patient with this parental need to carry out the ritual, to document that yes, we are so happy you came our way!
Again at the weekend: triple decker and fresh strawberry and family gathered, with all the belated ka-jinga-thunkle of the just-a-little-too-late.  The cake layers list – threatening disaster – the frosting slowly oozes toward the plate, and the berries are not ripe enough to taste like berries.  But Middlest has been admiring the strawberry cake on the cover of Patty Pinner’s Sweets for some time and recognizes this as best effort.
And then, finally, this post which I have been writing over many weeks.  Wanting to say.  Wanting to hold words close to my heart.
How you, my dear, are special to me every day and not just this.
[story: “you are special today“]
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