The Little Man that Once Was.
One day you were little and holding my hand.
Your cherubic face broke out into an enormous smile when I picked you up from preschool.
A small voice squealing “Mommy!” as you launched yourself into my arms wrapping me tightly in your love.
On Friday nights I took you to Blockbuster and let you pick out a movie and some Red Vines. We would order a pizza when we got home and snuggle in together on the sofa to watch something Disney or the Cody Banks and Spy Kids movies that you loved.
Your little body was always like a heater and left a warm spot where you had been snuggled against me when I took your sleepy self to bed.
You always insisted on a bedtime story and a song but once they were finished, you were happy and went right to sleep.
Some Sunday mornings you would climb into my bed with a pile of books and were content to have me read to you for hours.
We painted and crafted together often, your masterpieces always on display on the fridge, your bedroom wall, above the side table by my bed and above my desk at work.
Food was always your love language and you were overjoyed by anything that I made for you and even more so if you got to help me make it.
That time and more passed by so very quickly and now you’re grown.
You’re living your own beautiful life far away now and while I miss you often, lately I’ve been feeling particularly nostalgic for the little man that found joy and wonder in everything that the world had to offer with a smile that radiated like the sun and the contagious laughter that I couldn’t resist joining in on.
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