From my Mother's Journal, 12/6/98
While cleaning up my room, I came across one of my many partially filled journals. I was thumbing through, and came across this entry, that coordinated nicely with my last two posts.
I wish somehow I could save the moments when we are all sitting together, the four beautiful children, laughing and busy, unaware of my very misty gaze. Where did these people come from? How did I end up in charge? All of a sudden my world is so large, so vast. I feel as if I have the universe in my hands. Each one of them is so unique, so dear, and right NOW they are so cute and pudgy and pink and soft and innocent and pure, it hurts to think of time passing. Too quickly, I tell you.