Today, I realized I have been away from my family for 84 days. Most days, I think about them, and wish I could just hug my kids, sigh, and go on with my day.
Today, in a quiet moment, I thought about how big my kids looked. I thought about what they looked like when they were born and how I hope I never lose those memories. I think about their first smiles and how they touched a place in my heart that no one else ever will. I thought about how their little bald heads smelled...it the tears started flowing.
I sat and just let my memories take over. I remember how I felt when I was pregnant with each one. I remember the fear, and ultimately the overwhelming joy I felt when I first saw them. Those tears were the sweetest ones I ever shed.
I remember their screaming smooshed up red faces, minutes after they were born...and how when I spoke to them, they stopped crying and had a peaceful look on their face...
I knew then that they knew me...and they were content to hear me. That was the first time I fell truly in love.
I feel embarassed sometimes when I cry. Like I let weakness win.
But today, those tears were just what I needed.
Tonight, I will dream about my children and start counting the days until I can hold them again.