For Shiloh

Dear child,

I am sorry that you are having a tough time of it right now. I am praying for you every day. I hope the doctors can fix whatever is causing you these irritating seizures. Meanwhile, I wish I could be with you in person. I can't be there every day for you, but if I had ever had a daughter, I would hope to have enjoyed every ounce of time with her, just as with my own sons.

No Regrets

I flit. I fly. I run

'till setting of sun.

Ever busy, never shy

To do what must be done.

Working, slaving, sleeves rolled up

Earning bread, washing cup,

Focused on the tasks at hand.

I do not hear my child's demand.

I barely feel her tiny tug

Asking for a little hug.

In a minute, so I think.

I'll get to you in just a wink.

Hours pass while I am busy,

Move so fast I'm nearly dizzy

Till I pause to catch my breath.

Again she asks her small request.

I sigh. I turn. I see her face.

Suddenly I feel disgrace.

I bend and wrap my arms around her. "

I'm sorry," I whisper through teary blur.

She taps my shoulder. "Mom, don't cry.

I just came in to tell you 'hi.'

And now I'm going out! Goodbye."

My heart is tugging as I smile.

She will be around awhile.

Pay attention. Don't ignore her.

Kiss her every day. Adore her.

Soon enough she'll go away.

Then you'll wish that she could stay.

Set aside your work, your checklist

So you won't regret what you miss.