Eleven Years Old

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Is it a tragedy or a blessing to have more memories this year than we can remember?

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Some days, I think there is so much joy, my heart is not big enough to hold it all.

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“Mom, can I please have a slice of pie?”

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“Gussy needs a bath!”

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If we are lucky, we remember the joy.

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We realize that it’s never over too soon.  Soon hasn’t even started yet.

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How many more years do I have to ask them birthday questions before they get irritated?

How many more years will I see them for enough hours of the day to know they like eating grapes after school?

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Where will my muse be, when these two are gone?

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Time is passing, but we are planting seeds.  These little dumplings are ours for a long time yet.

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Actually, they are ours forever.

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