I won't see.
Like him riding his big sister's bike,
And wearing her hand-me-down jeans.
I listen to them fight,
While I rake the seed pod things,
And my eyes start tearing up,
As I think I'll miss hearing all these.
Reality starts to hit,
Of all the things that I will miss.
Two of the the three,
The only ones put to bed by me...
I suppose I won't hear from the school anymore,
And there will be no more waiting for the bus to arrive,
And we won't have transport from therapies anymore,
All the kids hated that drive.
But I also won't hear them playing pretend,
And there won't be someone with a fascination with cops,
And I will no longer have someone crying at my ankles,
Like he has to have mama at all costs.
Empty seats at the table,
No point in me having a van,
What will we do with the spare bedroom?
I'd rather not think about it if I can.
But here I think over and over,
How many toys will be gone,
How much laundry, how much fewer dishes,
And the little girl who likes her bedtime songs.
Life won't cost as much,
With so many less to feed,
And life will be so quiet,
When we're back down to three.
We can enjoy late night movies again,
And go back to the theater,
And library days are so much better,
But I'd rather have two more hims and a her.
One day at a time,
They're not gone yet,
And God will give me the strength that I need,
When it's time I bet.
Because He always has,
And He always will,
And I'm pretty sure He will again,
But I forget that from time to time,
And life is hard my friend.
