I remember folding the freshly laundered onesies and putting them away. I sat in the rocking chair, a warm August breeze blew the white eylet curtains ever so slightly. I scrunched my toes into the thick pile of sand colored carpet and took it all in. Blue bunnies sat on crooked alphabet letters and seemed to parade across the wallpaper of the nursery. The brand new cherrywood crib shone as the sun bounched of the side. I had dreamed of the day our precious baby would arrive. On a rainy and muggy September evening, our beautiful daughter made her debut. Then I blinked. Rain pelted the windows on a gray Saturday morning. Rolling over in hopes of catching a few more treasured minutes of sleep, I began to hear sounds of life beginning a new day. I slid out of bed and padded towards the door. My beautiful daughter, dressed in baggy pajama pants and a faded, gray sweatshirt met me in the hallway. Following her downstairs, I offered to make her breakfast. She politely declined and grabbed a poptart and her keys. As she headed out the door, my lips gently brushed her cheek and I wished her well. My girl was on her way to take her first college board exams. What will happen when I blink again?
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