Nevermind the milestones--momentous life events and rites of passage, my life is made up of all the little things. The quiet moments with a sleeping baby in my arms, a lullaby hummed--barely more than a whisper. Life is the giggles of their inside jokes and the tears that fall after a big fight. It is the tickle of his beard against my neck while I sleep. It is the way I miss him moments after he leaves if I know he will be gone for long. It is the smell of morning coffee and the ache of my muscles after walking all day through a peaceful forest. It is a quiet house and a good book. My life is made up of the space between my hard times and my celebrations. The graduations and wedding days, the heart break and failure, the winning goal and the fumble; maybe those moments tell the better stories, but the real me hides in between the monuments. The real me lives in the little things.
Created: Jul 02, 2015Document Media