When this beautiful bride was five, six, and seven years old she was my little doll. I stayed up with her when she was sick, I taught her school, gave her baths, fixed her hair, oh, a million times. Those enchanting blue eyes would pierce right into me and I would give in to her whims. Such a smart girl. I loved her, my little P.
And now she married and grown up with a baby of her own. I can hardly believe it. I feel so old and also sad that I missed a huge part of her life. She may not even remember me at this point.
There are others, too, children I loved and cared for who are grown. It's very odd.
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