Shadows of Feet
Last night, I was rocking Aidan to sleep in my arms. He was drinking his milk and clutching to his blankie and my hands were wrapped around his small, sweet body. Back and forth, we rocked, his head lying on my chest, my chin resting on his soft hair. On the far wall, I saw the shadow of his tiny foot on top of my leg. I can still see it now. The moment was soft and sweet and so was that shadow of our feet.
