I used to love taking pictures of my kids while they slept, they looked like little angels . . . I was feeling nostalgic this morning and thought it would be sweet to recreate some of those memories. I ended up feeling like a creepy stalker though. Taking pictures of grown men sleeping, even if you did give birth to them, is just kind of weird.

While deleting the stalker-esque photos, I remembered how precious my babies were, how their soft wisps of hair would tickle my nose as I kissed their little foreheads goodnight. I thought of how my heart filled with their love when they wrapped those little arms around my neck. It still feels that way when they hug me, except now it feels like they are the ones holding me.

Every once in a while, I look at them and see them as they once were, like time stood still. Bittersweet moments. They grew, like they were supposed to, it just happened so darn quickly. I miss tucking them in, story times and lullabies. I miss hearing their innocent little prayers being said. I can still hear them in my heart.

On second thought, I think I’ll keep some of this mornings digital memories . . . I may just print them out and send it to them in an unmarked envelopes. That is what stalkers do, isn’t it?

Crystal R. Cook