The painting sat in its corner, alone and untouched for years. Never had it been finished, yet in a way it was. The beauty, the liveliness, the joyous expression in the face of the child whom this artist had endeavored to portray—all of this—if you looked at it for very long—would seem to come alive. The cheeks would flush with excitement, the eyes would dance in merriment, and the upturned lips looked as if they were about to laugh. Though a few small areas on the likeness were still unfinished, on the whole, the happy little creature was very well drawn.

Prologue
Regina sat on the couch as she watched her young daughter play dolls on the floor. As she watched, she drifted off into a dream. Oh it was a wonderful dream indeed. It was all she could have wished for in that moment: Killian was by her side and Christy was on her lap. Regina turned her head and stared at Killian just as he was staring at her. He took her hand into his and lead forward to kiss her on her cheek. She closed her eyes as she embraced this truly wonderful moment. Regina was snapped back into reality when Christy called her name. “Mommy?”

It's funny how a melody
Can sound like a memory.
It's strange how a simple song
Can, somehow, be louder
Than a gong.

I still remember the sound of your voice.
I still remember your choice,
To leave me for her,
And yank me off, like a
Stubbornly clinging burr.

Why do I still wish you were here,
When you've been gone for more than a year?
Why do I still think you will come,
Refusing to let go,
Even when I know you are gone?

CHAPTER 25: TRIPPIN' IT

Jules and Greta climbed on furniture and reached up to pull the streamers and balloons down. They laughed at each other while teasing about needing longer arms.
"Take that," Greta wrapped a long, pink streamer around Jules' face.
"Hey now!" Jules laughed and floundered from her perch on the back of the couch. She tried to free her eye-sight.
"Hey, Jules?" Miles called out from Duncan's bedroom.
"Yeah?"
"Do you have your grandpa's meds in there?"
"Oh, yeah. They're in the kitchen. I'll grab them real quick."

As the glowing sun set behind Knight Manor. Isabella Knight a beautiful 21-year-old girl was finishing the last few touches on a surprise birthday party for her mom and uncle her mom’s twin brother. Bella scribbled on a piece of paper the last couple of items she needed to grab from the store.
‘Cake, candles, and balloons.’ thought Bella as she ran out the door to her black truck and rushed to the store. As Bella picked up the last few things on her list her phone rang.
“Hello” “Bella honey, it’s dad is everything ready for your mom and uncle?”

Memories come alive
In every photograph;
They take me back again
To sorrow or to laugh.

Reliving every moment
Captured in one scene,
Each picture bringing more
Of what the past has been.

Ah, those good old days!
When carefree lives we led.
A laugh, a skip, and trip, a hop,
At once my years are shed!

Come back again! Come back again!
Nostalgia seems to say;
The memories are fading fast
They’re fleeing far away.

When we’re together smiles win the day
The sun’s shining bright, clouds all blown away.

When we’re together things really get Fryed,
White Converse and brown ones sit right side by side.

When we’re together we laugh at our jokes
That really aren’t good, still we laugh til we croak.

When we’re together, it’s hard to describe.
You always create such a friendly vibe.

When we’re together, I love you so much.
I don’t think there’s anyone with your special touch.

1. summer

I didn’t expect my first
slice of independence to mean
a futon bed & eating peanut butter and jelly
for
every
meal

who didn’t teach me to make chicken?

I didn’t expect to become
a grandma overnight
everyone is ready to party and
my bedtime is 11pm

but
I like it
my cozy little
3-windowed bedroom
I have adjusted to
my rock hard futon
and I may still
have not unpacked
but I am good
where I am

2. committed

When I think of how often I said she was a nuisance, how I complained about giving her walks, how many times I wished we’d never gotten a dog, I cry. She was so good. She was so sweet and never bad. Her name was Pepper—Peppercheanie actually, but for short, we called her Pepper. She was speckled with brown on top of a white background of fur. Her whole head was plain brown, and smooth. Her ears were the softest and silkiest ears I have ever felt. And her eyes. They looked up at you in their sad way, sweet and sad and almost sorry. We loved her—I still do.