More Than Blood

An original writing that is somewhat outside the typical realms of my scripted ponderings. Every word is heartfelt and the experience was and is non-fictional.


Sometimes, I would carry one or both of them to their bed. I might bounce or playfully plop them on their mattress or a on a huge mound of stuffed animals, to see and hear them erupt with laughter and giggles and glorious grins and smiles. They would often jump back into my arms or grab onto my hand or try to topple me onto their bed with them. They would eventually get tucked away under a blanket or snuggled up in the “baby” (stuffed animals) mound and tell their stories of a rose and a thorn and a bud. I would rub their feet or tickle their toes and joke with them in funny voices while they told their stories of the day. And after I had been there for some time, it also became normal for me to stroke their hair or gently scratch their heads to help…

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