When my daughters were little, I loved to make up songs for them and everything could be a song. It didn't need to rhyme and with running on so little sleep, they often didn't rhyme, but we sang them anyway.
Day after day, with all of our hearts, we sang. About nothing and everything. Songs about breakfast and bathtime and a red tractors in the field. We sang about sunshine and cloudy days and taking walks in the wide, wide world.
Of all those years, the two things I remember best are the long slow walks stopping to look at every little thing, admire, find a treasure, and all the songs. The words have faded, but not the smiles, and the sounds of happiness and contentment so joyfully off key.
My yesterdays are so far away, but the sweet sounds of our songs are still with me, carrying me forward and making a more beautiful now.
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