But I’m not ready I’m not sure any mother ever really is. I suppose I should have seen this coming: if you marry a tall man, your children will surely be tall. I must admit I got a bit misty eyed today just looking at him - he’s taller than me now, the same height as Hamish.
It made the kitchen smell divine and I think we all enjoyed a touch of sweetness with our afternoon meal. It was a quiet family celebration I baked him a simple sponge cake with strawberry jam and cream, a bit of summer bottled up for these cold fall days. I can scarcely believe it.I swear just last week I was holding a tiny baby, and just yesterday he was grinning up at me with a smile missing at least three teeth, asking to save the best apple for his teacher.
We have been so busy as of late - what with Papa moving in - that Willy’s birthday almost slipped us by! And it was an important one: this is almost hard to write, but my boy has turned eighteen. ~an excerpt from Violet Sewell's private journal~
0 kommentar(er)
