21 01 2014

( This was written for my sister for her 18th birthday. I never had the chance to read it to her that day and to be honest, I am a bit afraid to do so too. So I thought putting it online would be easier. May be she will find it.)

I don’t remember the day you were born, but I remember every birthday after
and all the smiles and laughter you brought into my life.

I don’t remember the first 2 christmases without you, but the year you arrived
is the year I remember most vividly. Even before you were born, mum

round bellied filled with you,me, age two running around the christmas tree
hanging the ornaments while dad held the video camera and chased me

That is the earliest memory I have of our family. That is the
earliest memory I have of you.


What report cards can’t report

4 01 2014

I love how this came straight from a mother. 🙂

The Monster in Your Closet

The four-year-old class attendance book felt extra heavy when I picked it up this evening.

I opened the book to find my son’s name, then grimaced when I saw what was contained within: my son’s twice yearly report card.

I slipped the envelope into my purse and collected my son. I meant to hand the envelope unopened to my husband, because little that is important to me is ever expressed on these report cards.

My son began playing with a classmate. I watched for a moment before deciding, Why the heck not? If report cards aren’t important to me, why would I not at least glance at it as a curiosity?

I opened it and scanned quickly over its columns, noting agreement with some and wondering with amusement whose son some of the other marks were meant to reflect. When I was done, I tucked it back into my purse…

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