I can remember the sound of the rocker like it was yesterday and the warmth of them swaddled in their favorite blankets. I can hear the friendly drop-ins for coffee and the enlightening words of the friends informing me that my youngest was two houses down lobbying for cookies. Naked. I can see our dear neighbor chipping golf balls as I watch from my front porch swing my oldest of 6 years discuss life with him. And my heart dances when I think of my daughter's maraca introduction that founded all future half-pint performances.
The memories bubble up like champagne at News Years Eve. All sparkly and delicious. So here's to the years of splendid champagne memories.
Cheers!
