“I hope you dance…”

Dateline:  La Crosse, WI

I never told Barb, this. Never told, Ashley, never told, Jimmy. But Ashley. But Jimmy.

When we first brought you home from the hospital, that first or second night that you were with us, when Mommy was exhausted and asleep, I would get up and go into your nursery,

and I would gently pick you up in your blanket,

and I would hold you in my arms, tight against my chest,

and we would dance.

In the moonlight of Fresno,

we would dance.

In the moonlight of Allentown,

we would dance.

And sometimes you would open your eyes, and in the moonlight as we danced I would rub noses and kiss you cheeks,

and in a whisper,

I would sing to you,

about love,

and mommies,

and daddies,

and little babies, blue or pink.



I know you don’t remember it, but whenever I’m out, and it is a clear moonlight night,

I still smell your baby powder,

I still feel your perfect skin, your wisps of hair,

and in that special place you have in my heart,




“…I hope you never lose your sense of wonder…”

In every life, comes moments of love,

moments of happiness,

moments of joy.

I remember the moment I first looked into the eyes of the woman who would be my wife.

I remember the moment, when she told me, of the baby within.

I remember the moment when I was the first person on Earth to hold our children.

Life so special, it can only come in a moment.

Moments so special, they’re numbered, moments so special they may be the last thing you remember on Earth.

In the end, I won’t remember the stories I wrote, the jerk bosses I had to deal with, the bizarre company policies, or the pretty cars, or fancy shirts,

in the end,

our last thoughts will be of love.

Moments of love, moments of love that I saw last night as I sat and did a story with rookie Elite Angler, Hank Cherry.

A couple days ago, I was leaning up against Hank’s boat after he came in from practice, he offered me a slice of pizza, and as he sat in his boat eating, we were just talking when he said, “db I’ve had a hard time keeping my head in the game this week.”

Now this dude, is a stick, he’s leading the rookie of the year race, he’s 14th in the Angler of the Year race…and his head, “…isn’t in it.”

“Dude, what are you talking about…where is your head.’

And he stops eating pizza and looks at me and says,

“…with Bella Grace.”

“…I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean…”

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