end of day

So I come to the end of the day; Thistle sleeps. I sat in her room with her as she fell asleep. I so wanted to be able to write. And when she went to sleep, I went looking for a toy she was missing. This is what it means to be a parent.

I do not know all the reasons I was called upon by my Higher Power to do this. But I do know that I continuously find reserves of inner strength I did not know I had.