Those white high-top baby shoes ... I remember them well ... every night I took the strings out, washed them and hung them to dry. Then I wiped off one tiny shoe after the other and, last thing, smoothed on a layer of white shoe polish. Why did I go to so much trouble? Foolish, I know, but it gave me pleasure to start my son out with clean shoes each morning.
How fast it went. Time. How easily those long-ago days slipped through my fingers.
As I draw closer to the end of my journey and farther and farther away from the beginning, pictures once imbedded so sharply in my mind are fading. Is that Carmen in pink overalls or is it Honey Gail? Which child is chasing the ball ... running barefoot across the lawn ... Laughing as the dog licks her face? The laughter sounds like Karen. I loved that laughter. Sometimes I hear it still.
From the moment I open a book and begin turning pages, the end moves steadily toward me. Life is no different. Each chapter is destined to end as one day blends into the next and the next and the next ....
email: MelindaGerner@yahoo.com
