Played catch again with my son today. Then catch turned into football. He won 31 – 8. I’ll blame it on my cowboy boots. Apparently we were playing two-hand-touch and I am supposed to tag him with both hands.
My daughter and I have been playing a different kind of tag, a tossing game if you will. Two years ago I gave the kids journals. (https://heartwriter.wordpress.com/2009/12/17/best-mom-by-j-g-mcglothern/) The journals were for me and them to share and communicate back and forth. For me and my then five year old son to draw pictures to each other and my then eight year old daughter to share little notes.
The journal I share with my daughter sat empty for a good while, then last week, all of a sudden she started leaving the journal on my pillow. Signaling it is my turn to write next. We are having a lovely correspondence and I feel like I have been tagged. The good kind, the kind where you want to be caught.
My heart is full from these exchanges of footballs and journals. My heart is touched, but this time by four hands.
by J.G. McGlothern