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Posts Tagged ‘Love’

It is a rare thing for an athlete to have both a gifting for speed and for endurance. The short track runner needs to have the human equivalent of fuel injection … they need to start fast and keep it going to the end. The marathon runner needs to be able to pace his or her self … it is a long run, and so their energies need to be spread out over a longer period of time, running consistently until they cross the finish line.

Endurance has become, in our society, a word associated primarily with athletics. I am no athlete, but I do know that my natural tendency in living is that of the short track runner.

I can start well, I have amazing energies for short term projects (and if they are long term, they are still sitting, unfinished, in a closet in my house), I am fantastic at responding in a crises, I am a confident trouble-shooter. I struggle to know how to be balanced, I struggle to start anything slowly, I can easily shelve any project or problem when I get bored of it. I struggle to keep going when I cannot see the finish line.

When I think of the word endurance, I think … marriage.

This week hubby and I will celebrate twenty-two years of marriage together. To some we have already run a marathon (amen to that), and to others we have only completed a short track event. To us … it depends on the day 😉

Twenty-two years is more than half of my life (I was married  w  a  y  too young, at twenty … now your brains are all doing the math). I have quite literally grown up with my hubby. We have gone through our twenties together, we have gone through our thirties together, and now we are speeding through our forties (he, of course, is speeding through them MUCH faster than I). We have had the joys of sharing the births of our three children, and the sorrows of losing five others. We have moved, quite literally, from east to west, together. We have loved and learned and lived … together.

When we were first married, we were both so into it! We were so focused on each other, on making sure that we were meeting each others needs. We wanted to please each other, we wanted to love each other. As life has moved on our focus on each other has been back-seated by the million and one other important things in life … children, jobs, home, yard, church, friends, etc., etc., etc. It is so easy to see the motivation behind the Barbara Streisand and Neil Diamond hit “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers” …

She                                                                                   He

You don’t bring me flowers                                        You hardly talk to me anymore
You don’t sing me love songs                                     When you come through that door at the end of the day…
I remember when you couldn’t wait to love me
Used to hate to leave me
Now after loving me late at night                              When it’s good for you, babe.
When you just roll over and turn out the light…    And you’re feeling all right
And you don’t bring me flowers anymore

Those memories of early in the relationship ‘short track’ love, can be a great and horrible wedge once you are into the endurance run of ’til death do us part’ marriage. It is so easy to remember and reminisce about the new (and young) love stage of relationship. Often it is easier to remember it than it is to maintain it. And it is easier to remember what your spouse used to do for you and I, than to remember what you (I) used to do for them.

This marriage thing … it is definitely an endurance run. And, it is a tandem run, as well … it means that the success or failure of your marriage is dependent on both runners giving their all, all the time. Keeping pace with where your partner is heading. Being alert to possible ailments or distractions, for yourself, and for your partner. It also means that, at times, you will be the stronger one, and you will need to pull them along when they are weak, or ill, or just not on top of their race. But another key element to running the race together is rehydrating, refreshing each other … sometimes that refreshment comes from being apart, but usually it means making time to be together.

Like water to a weary runners body, time away, as a couple is not just a nice thing to do, but it is necessary if the marriage is to be kept alive. Sometimes it can be accomplished as easily as taking a walk together, or going to bed early and locking the door (there is nothing so disturbing to adolescent and teenage children, as a closed parents bedroom door, BEFORE they go to bed … their response is equal to the classic ‘heebie-jeebies’ … personally I am thinking of investing in a ‘do not disturb’ sign … just to keep shocking them … I figure my goal in life is to shock them before they shock me 🙂 … but, I digress). Sometimes it is a dinner out … not with another couple, but alone, making eye contact and talking. And, sometimes it is a day or more away, together, to reconnect just as a couple, and rediscover what it is that drew you both together in the first place (sometimes that is more advantageous than what is keeping you together presently … if it is not a happy and productive leg of the marathon).

So, we pace ourselves, my hubby and I … and hopefully we can make a time of refreshment possible … so that we can keep pressing on to the finish line … together, in tandem.

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Almost ten years …

Anniversaries are times for remembering, reviewing and reminiscing. And the tenth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the United States is no different.

It is a time to reminisce about history before, during and after 9 11.

As today is 9-9-11 (two days before the anniversary of the terrorist attacks), I wonder how 9-9-01 (two days before the attacks occurred) might have been different, how we might be different, had the terrorism of that fateful day not occurred. I wonder if people awakening on 9-9-01 had concerns about flying, if they felt there way a terrorist threat, if they knew the name Bin Laden. Was 9-9-01 an age of innocence still? But I also wonder, did people say goodbye to friends and family more casually? Did people forget to tell their loved ones, ‘I love you’ before going off to work or school?

I also wonder about how we were different to our loved ones in the days following the attacks. I know that, for me, in the days following the attacks, I took more time to read and talk and snuggle with my kids at bedtime. I know that snoring from the other side of the bed, at night, was less annoying, and more a comforting sign that he was still there.

But, I also know that I have forgotten how the events of that day had scared me into loving unconditionally, for a time. But, I have become complacent, I take tomorrow (not just today) for granted, I have the freedom to take those I love for granted … because I forget that they might not be here (I might not be here) tomorrow. May I not have to be reminded again, at such great cost.

It is a time to remember the events of that day, and the human losses.

For any of us, where we were and what we were doing, when we heard of the first attacks on 9-11-01 will forever be imprinted on our brains. That is because what we heard, what we saw caused a trauma … a permanent scar, on our brains. I remember arriving at the gym, and seeing the first tower on fire, and thinking, “how awful.” Although true (it was awful), now that seems like such a trite, distant and removed response.

Our minds, our eyes were glued to the information we were hearing and seeing. We were shocked, we were unbelieving that what was going on, was really real. We remember seeing the footage … over, and over and over … of the first, and then the second plane hit the buildings. We remember hearing that the Pentagon had also been hit. We remember hearing of a plane crash in a field in Pennsylvania. We remember seeing people … falling, no … jumping … from the burning buildings … Remember?

It is a time to review where we have gone since the events of that day.

So, where have we gone from the horrors of that day? And I do not mean from the perspective of airport security, of retaliation, of government policy … I mean where have you and I, as observers of that day, gone? How have we changed how we live our lives? What have we learned? In what ways do we do life differently?

I cannot sit on a plane and not think of the unthinkable visions of 9-11-01, and realize that yes, it could happen again. I cannot hear people debate blame of politicians, and fault of agencies without thinking, ‘where there is a will, there will be a way’ (do we really think that we can prevent all attempts of terrorism with a policy?). I cannot hear of retaliation and not think ‘but there is evil in all men, when we eliminate one, many more rise.’ But, these are negative responses. These are not the responses that, I believe, any of the victims would desire us to have.

I cannot speak for the dead. And I knew none of the victims of 9 11. But, IF I had been one of the victims, I believe I know what I would want others to hear from me …

Live your life to the fullest.

That is it. Just live your life to the fullest. Love those nearest to you, and love them daily. Ponder what (who) is most important to you, and spend the bulk of your time, your energies on that thing … or, more realistically, with that person. Don’t sit on the sidelines watching others live their life, go our there and live, and live, and live …

… because, when life was coming to an end, that fateful day, I bet they each wanted just one more chance at life … and we still have it in our grasp … live it, because they didn’t have the choice.

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All day this song has been going through my head …

I’m not sure if it was watching the recent Royal Wedding, or hormones, or, simply enough is enough … I want hubby back home!

He left on March 22 (my birthday, but I’m not bitter …), with our youngest two. They drove to Florida (?????), as part of his sabbatical. After just short of four weeks our oldest daughter and I flew (we are much smarter) to Florida to spend a week with them, and bring home our younger daughter. So, now I’ve been back (without son and hubby) for over a week, and I’ve had enough!

I loved sleeping alone … for the first few weeks … no snoring (or, at least no one to tell me I am snoring), no news programs at bedtime (only DIY Network), no middle of the night traipsing to the bathroom (there’s no one there to startle me, while he’s doing the traipsing … and seat warming), no house-awakening sighs, because the dogs breathing woke him up (maybe because the beast is sleeping on his side of the bed?).

But now, I am not loving the solo bed experience … no one to warm my eternally chilled tootsies, no one to explain the news to me (really I do get it on my own, but I like how he tells it, better than Lloyd Robertson), no one to kiss good night (although the beast does love to hug), no one to say … I love you …

Separation has been good. And I even recommend it! And, honestly, we needed it. It has been … a … year(s)

So many things get in the way of loving each other. But mostly it is our individual, independent, focus that keeps us from concentrating on striving for ‘us’. His job, my job, his responsibilities, my responsibilities, even ‘our’ kids. But if the pyramid (and I’m not talking some Amway pyramid scheme) of our priorities is out of whack, then everything crumbles.

As I sit here, I realize that we give lip service to how God is no. 1, our marriage is no. 2, our kids are no. 3 … but where do we spend our time? Matthew 6:21 says, “for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” I guess you could even substitute ‘treasure’ with time (where you spend most of your time, that’s where your heart really is), or money (where you spend most of your money, that’s where your heart really is), or thoughts (what you spend most of your time thinking about, that’s where your heart really it). Either way, I know I have been a hypocrite in what I say is my treasure, and where I spend my time, my money, and my thoughts.

So, hubby …

“I miss those blue eyes

how you kiss me at night,

I miss the way we sleep

I miss the way we breath

I miss everything about you

After all the things we’ve been through

I miss everything about you” …

There’s more I miss … but mom is probably reading this one! 😉

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The Royal Wedding

As I write this, there are less than 24 hours until the Royal Wedding of Prince William, and Kate (who will now more frequently be called Catherine) Middleton. Once this is published, the grand event will be over, the newspapers, mags., (rags) and internet full of shots of the newest royal couple. And people, all over the world will be calling in sick at work, due to staying up way to late to see the event in ‘real time’.

The wedding of Williams parents, almost 30 years ago, was grand, and beautiful and oh, how the world cheered as they kissed on the balcony of Buckingham Palace.

I can so remember the engagement of Prince Charles and then Lady Diana. She, the shy, beautiful young girl, with a twinkle in her eyes, and he … the older, stoic … prince (really HE was only important due to the fact that he was a Prince). In the broadcasts of their engagement, she seemed to so communicate love, and excitement, and hope.

The hope she communicated was fully ingested by those of us who were single, young women and girls. The hope of finding a prince, the hope of a fairy tale ending …

Ah, but their marriage, their relationship did not, in the years to come, enjoy the hope of Happily Ever After. It ended in bitterness, broken vows, divorce, and, sadly death.

But that was then, in the past. And William and Kate are the future of the British Monarchy (and of the hopes and dreams of young women and girls world-wide). Their future is still unwritten. And I am sure the world will once again cheer, as the two kiss on the balcony of Buckingham Palace.

I haven’t decided if I will set my alarm for the ungodly hour their nuptials are occurring on the telly here. I’m really not a lover of ‘real TV’, as I find it so … unreal. But I do wish them well. Marriage is tough, on the best of days, and with the best of spouses. And they have the curse of the whole world watching their every move … that’s one fishbowl that I would pray my daughters not ever have to swim in.

But, there are many exciting wedding guests on the list to attend the royal event. My personal favorite, and the one person there who might be worth getting out of bed for,  is Mr. Bean Rowan Atkinson. I can already see him popping into the official photos, destroying floral arrangements, and falling asleep during the more solemn parts of the ceremony … who wouldn’t lost sleep over a guest who can really make this Royal Wedding one to remember?

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Good Friday

What an oxymoron!

Good Friday?

Good? Friday.

Good. Friday?

Good? Friday?

What is so … good, about Good Friday?

I will spend today contemplating a most horrific death, a most vile end of a life, a most traumatizing execution.

I will spend today, tears streaming down my face, imagining the horror of a mother watching her son tortured, and, finally, die, right in front of her.

I will spend today considering the whys and hows of a father … not just any father, but the only father with the means to stop this event, at any time (even before it began). And that he not only didn’t stop it … He purposed this very event, this very death, even before His son was conceived into human flesh.

His Son.

And then, I will spend today realizing that it wasn’t all about Him, the son.

It was, it IS, about ME, today.

It was, it IS, about YOU, today.

The Father, so loved me (so loved you), that He wanted to save us. But saving the innately guilty without cost is impossible! And the cost is always, blood. It is through the blood of His son, that we are saved, that we are redeemed.

“He is so rich in kindness and grace

that he purchased our freedom

with the blood of his Son

and forgave our sins.”

Ephesians 1:7

If I  (you) accept this gift, this sacrificial gift, that He never forces upon me (you), then today is, in every way, not just Good Friday, but the best Friday, ever given.

Good Friday? Yes

It wasn’t the nails…

… that held him to the cross …

… it was love

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I have experience the longest four weeks of my life, with hubby, our son, and youngest daughter away on an adventure! The feeling has been similar to the expectancy of the birth of a baby, or the waiting for your wedding day! And, with all three of these times of waiting, they culminate with embracing, words of love and drinking in their scent, which you know so intimately as belonging to someone who is yours.

Kind of like … dogs. You know, you take your beast for a walk, and are walking towards another person and their beast. Both people say ‘hi’, and the beasts … well they go for the sniff and lick … seriously, THAT is something I can’t wait to get to heaven and ask God that most theological of questions … ‘why do dogs sniff each other’s butts?’ But I digress.

But really, the familiarity of a scent, that is the evidence of an intimate relationship.

To inhale their scent, that, to a mom, says they are mine. I remember one other time when hubby was away, and, on the phone I told him that I missed his scent. His response was to pass gas, so I could at least hear it … we are so from two very different planets! Believe me, there are some scents that, as a woman, I could never miss! (I know this is a universal woman thing too … a few weeks back, my daughter says, ‘Mom, I so miss having girls with me … my brother had a chili dog today … and I’m confined to the car with the effects of it!’).

bad smell

We may know many people, and we might even know their cologne, or perfume, or hand lotion, or even soap, but to know their individual scent … your relationship has to be closer, more physical, more intimate.

When I go to the East Coast to visit my family, it is not just my mother’s embrace that holds me to her, but her familiar scent. I cannot imagine anything forcing the memory of the scent of my mom from my mind.

I am sure I could be blindfolded, and still be able to identify those most intimately connected to me, by sniffing their necks (okay, it would also be easy to identify hubby, as his is covered with whiskers).

Now, don’t get me wrong, we are not just sitting around sniffing each other. We will talk, we will hug (we are ‘huggers’), we will play, we will travel, we will see sights, we will go to the beach (I wonder if the South East Beach smells like a North East beach? I swear I can still be one hundred miles from the East Coast, and I can smell it … home). But those first moments, those first hours together, it is our sense of smell that was and will be most keenly reunited.

“Everyday, you make me smile.
Everyday, you make me glad to be a mother.
Everyday, you make a memory I’ll never want to forget.
Everyday, I’m more thankful than the day before that you are my little boy/girl.
Everyday, I smell your hair and touch your skin
and wonder
how I ever lived my life without you.
Everyday.”
Unknown Author

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This one is gonna be a long one, because it is the culmination of a handful of blog entries that are still only drafts, they are … unfinished. So grab your coffee, or tea (from the unfinished blog entry ‘Re-Boiled Tea’, oh, and that’s for you mom … everyone who blogs knows that if no other person on the face of the earth reads your blogs, mom does … and dad, so get your glass of milk), and, of course, chocolate, and snuggle into your seat, it’s going to be a long one (if I get it ‘finished’)!

Now, where do I start? I know how to finish (I can finish the cake, finish reading the book, finish the chocolate, finish the yard work, finish the candy, but I digress). But starting can be more difficult.

I am not a news-lover! As a matter of fact, with hubby gone now for two weeks, the TV REMOTE is gathering dust! Oh, I spent countless hours enjoying reno. and do-it-yourself shows, but, my (undiagnosed) ADD (this is from the unfinished blog entry ‘My Daughter says I have ADD’) can stand TV for only so long!

I do love good news, though. And, recently I heard really good news.

My dad has been sick much of this past winter. He easily gets respiratory infections, pneumonia anything to do with lungs and breathing, he’s had it! He’s been admitted to hospital, drugged through the winter season with an assortment of medications that have been equally successful and failure in improving his condition, and had a butt-load of medical tests and procedures to uncover the root of his problems.

When there is ‘stuff’ going on in the lives of my family, I am so keenly aware of how far the east is from the west (from the unfinished blog entry of the same name). They live on the east coast, and I, on the west. They can watch the sun rise out of the Atlantic, and I can watch it set in the Pacific. They ‘get to have’ (they do not necessarily appreciate this privilege, as they got snow on April 1st  this year … April Fools!) snow in the winter, and I suffer (and everyone around me suffers in my vocal suffering) with a season called Monsoon Season. On the East Coast you can buy coastal properties for under $100,000, on the west coast coastal properties are too expensive to hotel at! On the east coast the humor is dry and sarcastic (from the unfinished blog ‘We Have Sarcasm Themed Dinners’ … Seriously!), on the west coast, humor is … shipped in from the east 😉  And, I digress, again!

Truly, living so far away is a sucky bummer (from the unfinished blog entry of the same name … you’re gonna love that one). There is no popping over for a ‘mom talk’, there is no being there for birthdays, and Father’s Day, and bumping into brothers at the mall, and having a house full of my kid’s cousins. There is also no spending occasions with cheek squeezing auntie (where I come from aunts is not pronounced ‘ants’. Ants crawl on the floor, but my aunts … hum, maybe this reasoning doesn’t work so well!), or that creepy uncle (lets face it, every family has at least one relative that is the personification of ‘creepy’) … hum, there are some benefits of living on the opposite coast 😉 .

So this week I heard good news, after all of the tests my dad has been going through, the results are in, and he is okay. No cancer (a relief, as his dad suffered with lung cancer before he died), no pneumonia, no nothing really, except for a virus that he had picked up while in the hospital, at some point. Apparently this virus will be residing in him, as long as he’s residing on planet Earth, and is not problematic unless it flares, but there is good, reliable medication for it that.

Ahhhhh! Good News is so Good!

And so, we all continue living our unfinished lives, in our temporary homes (from the unfinished blog of the same name). It makes me wonder, as I always do when confronted with news (good or bad) … what is the lesson, what is there to learn from this? I figure if something is going to get my heart rate up, or cause me to sweat, or make me laugh hysterically, or cry from the depths of my soul, or make me shake with anger … there must be something to learn from it (whatever ‘it’ is), that I can benefit from. Sometimes it is so much easier to see the ‘benefit’ than others, when it seems to only be a lesson, and a hard one at that.

It’s sort of like when a child touches something hot, after being told not to … that is a hard lesson, and, for the child, who is crying because her hand hurts, the idea of ‘benefit’ from the lesson goes unseen. But, as an adult, we can see that the lesson, although painful, has benefit, as the child will not enter into that danger again. Hum, I guess our experience provides a bigger perspective.

Kind of like our lives. But we are the child. We have ‘stuff’ in life that burns our hands, that burns our hearts, and hurts like crazy. We think there is no tomorrow (or wish there was no tomorrow, so that the pain, the agony the hard ‘stuff’ of life would be over). But, what we ‘children’ think we see as complete and whole … God, the bigger-picture seeing parent, sees as unfinished, and He sees a bigger picture.

I wish I had His lens!

But, for now I am thankful that my dad is okay, that his days are unfinished … I guess there is a lesson, something to learn from this  … for me, for him, for all of our family. I guess we need to seek out the answer to that, until it is … you know, finished.

We don’t yet see things clearly.

We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist.

But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright!

We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!

But for right now, until that completeness,

we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation:

Trust steadily in God,

hope unswervingly,

love extravagantly.

And the best of the three is love.”

1 Corinthians 13:12-13

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“Tale as old as time

True as it can be”

And so begins a song from a story that brings out “ohs and ahs’ in little girls, and makes the boys stick their finger down their throats in a choking gesture.

It really is a tale as old as time (minus the wretched ‘curse’). The person given ‘credit’ for writing this tale is Mme. Leprince de Beaumont, and the date of it’s publish was 1757! But the plot, the story, even predate that! In earlier versions the ‘beast’ is a pig, or a man with black skin who wants it white again (and we think racism is new?), or, get this, one version is called ‘The Girl Who Married A Snake’ … I can’t see that title being a big hit for Disney (and I definitely would not pick that book up)!

But, as old as the story is, the premise has not changed. A lovely lady and an undeserving, beastly man, meet. They spend time together, her loveliness rubs off, then she sees him in a new light, they fall in love … and live ‘happily ever after’ (imagine a sunset, pretty little birds fluttering, stars in each of their eyes … ahhhhhh).

Why does this story so appeal to us that it’s plot lasts hundreds of years? Do we females believe, as Diana in Anne of Green Gables, who said, “it would be nobler to marry some wild, dashing, wicked young man and reform him”?

All this makes me wonder, why has this plot, this premise, not been duplicated with role reversal? In other words, would this story fly, would it ‘sell’ if the physical ‘beast’ was the woman, and the ‘beauty’ was the man? Would the man be able to see her beauty from within? Or would he never even give her a second glance? I know from my estrogen-filled body, soul, heart and mind that I would go to a ‘chick’ flick with that story line! This could sell … to females!

But could it happen? Because for such a story to touch us, to grip our very being, there has to be some element of truth in it, some element of ‘this could happen’. So, could it? Could a man choose to see beauty in a visually unappealing lady?

I wonder …

 

 

 

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So, it’s been a week since part of my family left. And, man, have I accomplished lots!

I’ve worked in the garden (freshly laid out grass seeds are currently being drenched by yet another ‘mini’ monsoon), organized ‘piles’ of stuff to put elsewhere (some of us are ‘pilers’ and some of us are … messy), taken a day trip with eldest daughter (you will so be hearing about that trip!) and cleaned the house (a very full, extremely heavy, garbage can was taken to the curb last night … not this morning, as is often the case, when another (male) resident of the house frequently chases the garbage truck down the street, with the can … name withheld to protect the guilty).

It has been a good week!

But the dancing through the house in my undies like Tom Cruise in ‘Risky Business’ (yet another indicator of just how archaic I am, AND an added bonus for those who know me is to now have been given FAR too much information, and a visual that they just do not want) is now past. And I am missing my Baby Girl 😦

It is not that she is the only one I am missing … I do miss her brother and her dad, but tonight when Skype was choppy (grrrrrr!), and she kept getting ‘offlined’ by Facebook … my heart just longed for her. It felt as though she and I needed to be together, and the big, bad technology gods were not letting it happen.

It was one of those momma-longings. I remember when she would be sleeping (finally … let me tell you the moments I am about to share were pretty much non-existent for the first two sleepless years of her life) and I would look in on her and everything within me wanted to pick her up and just ‘drink in’ her unique scent …

By the way, for those first two years I NEVER actually did pick her up … heck, I was so sleep deprived that I rarely checked on her if she was sleeping … sleep was a longing that this momma rarely ever had fulfilled.But, I digress.

Anyway, tonight as I ‘chatted-choppily’ on Skype with her dad and brother, I got this longing for her. Then, when she still hadn’t ‘appeared’ in the conversation, I realized that she might be struggling with the thunderstorm they were having, and I NEEDED MY BABY GIRL. Because, even if the thunderstorm was not bothering her mature Middle School person, it was bothering her momma here that I could not hold her in my arms.

I’m so glad times have changed, and that she doesn’t leave me sleep-deprived anymore (of course I recognize that surely that will re-occur in the years to come). I’m so glad that I am not scared to go and watch her sleep peacefully (this does not happen late at night, as I am old, and she is … adolescent. It happens anytime before noon, but after 6am, when I awaken). I am so glad that, even though she is adolescent (and I am … old) we both need to hold each other.

So, Baby Girl, whether you read this tonight, or tomorrow morning (or, in 10 years, because you think reading your mom’s blog is ‘lame’) I want you to know that when you were in Middle School your mom longed to hold you, and talk to you (and give you hints about what I got you for your birthday), and …

I miss you Baby Girl, sleep well.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6QGTKrj97g

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