The patter of little feet....

The patter of little feet into the night and the eco of laughter that stays long after they have gone is not fair for a heart that is no longer hole ...

Pictures rob you of a growing process that should be yours to share,yours to be present and actually be part of the same and yet I am rendered to talks on the phone and pictures that make me ache in places that the pain as numbed to a level I could now endure.

The pictures that make me see how much they have grown in my absence and the becoming process of being men.And none of that is due to me,only to their father.

Paying expenses is a shallow reminder that yes i am active in the process,but not by much.

Not for what it counts.

Not for a smile or a recognition that once they where in my womb,once I put them to my breast and from there they started their first steps into what it is now.

Very little can i take  in knowing there was nothing you could have done to alter the outcome.

But at least the pictures do not lie,and laughter and joy are once again part of their daily life.

So to Micael and Lucas,my sons.

I miss you both dearly,so so proud.


The End

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