It was Friday.
I took out the chalk and you took your blue truck as we waited for daddy to come home from work. There we were, sitting on the front porch listening to Ben Rector, blissfully enjoyed the 75 degree weather that finally came our way. You were sick during the week...but all that seemed like a distant memory on this Friday afternoon. We had a family pizza date to look forward to, after all.
Daddy drove into the driveway and you ran out to greet him with that big smile -- the kind that only daddy's get. After dinner we sat on that our porch again and you laughed at Gertie the cat pawing in the window. You picked out (almost) every stick in our yard and proudly showed it to me as if it was the most precious stick in the world. You gave me big wet kisses -- the kind that only mamas get -- kisses that are filled with pure love, enthusiasm, and promise.
To some, this may seem like an ordinary day. To me, it's the most sacred moments of my life. I'm cherishing these memories with you, Pier Francis. Forever my baby boy.
