My feet pound the path.
I weave my latest in a long line of must-have baby-mobiles through the curved path, rows of pine bend at the waist, bidding us past.
My husband, he strides, love and purpose in every step. Oh, he is stopping again, a shoelace undone or a coveted sticker has floated off. The dutiful task of herding 3 foot wanderers, all his.
I maintain our pace, aware of the purpose I carry, comfortable as the leader, but only here, only in purpose.
My oldest skips to my side, can I fix her ponytail while we walk? Of course. I contemplate guiding the stroller with my teeth.
I am all powerful today.
Feet tap out a heartbeat behind me.
Their eyes fall on my back, the message carved and sharp.
Once in a while, I drift behind and they flow ahead. I see theirs too.
Etched with a name we chose, a span of dates, they nod at me, a wink of strength and hope.
Gratitude pours sweet tears.
We near the end, put tiny feet to the ground.
They tap out the last of the journey, it is theirs.
It is hers.
It is ours.
This post was written in response to the Red Dress Club Prompt:
When meeting someone for the first time, describing a scene from your life that would help show the person your true self.
When I sat down to write this I had no idea what scene I would use. I started typing and this is what came out. It is me. Many thanks to our amazing friends and family who walk with us or donate each year, in Hadley’s memory and in honor of all of our preemies.
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