My 7yo hugged and kissed me and we went through the rituals of bedtime.
“I know what tomorrow is,” she said, with her arms arms still wrapped around my neck.
Thinking she was talking about the dentist appointment she had, I said, “Oh yeah?”
“Two years ago you had your strokes.”
And like that I was swept away in a wave of memories of mother moments.
Putting band-aids on Nathaniel’s wounds.
Braiding Rachael’s hair.
Catching Peyton as she jumped in the pool.
Moments that can never be recaptured.
I’m truly heart-broken to know that two years ago I lost more than my ability to walk or use my right hand.
I lost the ability to dance at my children’s weddings.
I lost the ability to take my daughters to shop for a prom dress.
I lost the ability to drop my son off at his dorm.
My kids will always think about think of me when they buy a house.
I have this anniversary and it makes me think of things yet to happen.
I try to remember the trust that those band-aids represented.
The love in each stroke of the brush.
The faith that I would always be there when they closed their eyes and jumped..
Two years ago I had the strokes that changed everything.
There is so much that those strokes took from me and my family.
There are things that matter the most that can never be taken.
At Babble I wrote about the ability to make to make every word count