Sweet Josiah.
I was trying to fix dinner and you kept arriving at the door.
To give me beautiful flowers that you picked just for me. Sometimes one at a time and sometimes by your little handful.
What joy it was to put down the task at hand, see your sweet face at the door, and receive from you...
preciousness.
We all know those weren't really flowers in the true horticultural sense. But they were beautiful to you, so they became beautiful to me.
Thank you, baby.
