Target. I am leaving for a weeklong training tomorrow. I need cat litter, some snacks, some Advil.
I see a flowing summer dress and jacket that would look great on my girl ~ if she likes it ~ so I toss them into the cart. One of maybe my top ten things, picking up gifts for her. She doesn't always appreciate my taste, but I do it anyway. Sometimes it works out.
I walk past the displays of summer stuff. Brightly-colored noodles and beach towels, picnic chairs and coolers.
We used to have the best times in the summer. I loved summer SO much. My daughter said the other day that among her best childhood memories are the days that a group of us, moms and kids, lazed away at a lake south of here. Moms hauling out food and talking for hours on end, kids splashing off floating whales and turtles and racing to the playground during swim breaks, everyone trudging up to the parking lot as darkness finally fell.
I look at the noodles and beach towels.
I want my boy back.
