day 317: ghosts

Every now and then I think I see ghosts of my little boys. 

I see the place where the toy chest used to sit near the sliding door and then a wispy little brunette boy is sitting there with Fisher Price knights and dragons all over his lap.  Then I go to the pool with my family and see a little boy with cute flipped out ears and see mine splashing around right next to me. 

But then one of them drives up and comes in calling for me, and when he finds me he gives me a big hug.  Then the ghosts are gone.  For now.

9 comments

misssrobin | July 3, 2010 at 11:39 PM

Hey, when you describe it that way I can see them, too.

I see the ghosts of my children as well. It's a bittersweet thing.

All for the best . . . right?

Connie | July 4, 2010 at 12:07 AM

They grow so fast! I love the ghosts of the past.

TechnoBabe | July 4, 2010 at 6:14 AM

I do that too. I remember my son trying to climb up onto a chair, his arms pulling him halfway up and his behind in the air. Hope your fourth of July is great.

Kimberly | July 4, 2010 at 9:09 AM

Oh how vividly I can imagine that sensation and the bittersweetness of it. So glad those wonderful guys of yours make it easier to let the ghosts go.

LisAway | July 4, 2010 at 1:09 PM

Oh, I totally believe in ghosts. This kind, anyway. :) They're the best.

Amber | July 4, 2010 at 8:11 PM

And now I'm crying. Darn you.

The ghosts. Sometimes I see glimpses of my children's futures. It makes me happy and sad because one day they won't be the cute, chubby cheeked babies. A necessary step, I know.

The Way I See It | July 5, 2010 at 10:47 PM

My emotions were already on edge as we painted Breanne's room today, which will always be Breanne's room to me, but now with your post, I can't hold my emotions in check any longer.

Charlotte | July 7, 2010 at 4:48 PM

I see my own ghosts, too. I love the way you put it. Sometimes they stop me dead in my tracks and make me miss my little ones (even though I love their older reincarnations).

Stacy | July 7, 2010 at 9:31 PM

Sometimes I see the opposite- the glimpses of who my babies will be in the future. I was in tears a few Sundays ago, buttoning my toddler into a white shirt, seeing him in 17 years as a missonary.