The other night I had one of those moments as a mom you just want to capture for fear you'll miss it forever.
Ava had been "scared" that night, and so we told her she could fall asleep in our bed. As I came upstairs to move her to her bedroom, I just had to stop and pause. Carebear was tucked in beside her; beaten up, loved on and frayed, but still there. He's been a faithful companion for 4 years.Sometimes Care Bear slips to the side.
He isn't quite so necessary.
If he's forgotten while we're gone overnight, his companion sleeps ok with out him.
He spends more time by himself during the days and waits contently to be found and snuggled once more.
And yet? He keeps hanging in the picture; a comfort with anything new, unknown or "just cause."
But what about this all made me stop to catch my breath?
It was the thought that one of these days, it's going to be her last snuggle with Carebear . . .and I probably won't know.
One of my favorite children's books is by Karen Kingsbury and it's called "Let me hold you longer." I don't even own it - yet from reading it one time, I fell in love with it.
In it, the author encourages parents not to just savor the firsts, but savor the many "lasts" that we often don't even realize until they are gone.
The truth is?