Tears of joy often strike us when we least expect them. They are moments of pride and joy that are mixed with the resignation that what is happening in this moment will likely never happen again. A pinnacle or gateway separating your life in to a before and after. My tears today start with socks. Not just any socks but the socks of a newborn baby. Little tiny things that both my sons wore. Socks that they will never wear again, and will never be on the feet of one of my children.
My wife and I have been tossing the ball back and forth for awhile on whether or not to have more children. Because of that choice we were going through some of the things that have been outgrown. What this brought to us were happy tears of all the fond memories of the little ones. A cascade of memories came flooding back. triggered by their tiny clothes. Chunky little thighs, toothless grins, blowouts that defied reality. These little things touched us in a way that we didn’t realize they would. Que the tears of happiness and longing. Tears at how much we loved those cute little babies, and tears that well never have them that little again. Seriously folks hug them every chance you get.
We kept a few outfits we were most fond of but are selling/donating the rest. Going through, we have a dozen stories and pictures for these outfits. Moments tattooed on our hearts. Stupid socks. They shouldn’t make a grown man cry but here we are.
We THINK we are done, but you never know. Babies bring the best tears of joy.
K
A funny thing happened on the way to the book 
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