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They have all gone now

I laid in bed the other night, waiting, knowing it was the last night of our visit; the last night of my children returning to the nest so I could pretend they had never left.

I know they are meant to leave, are meant to stretch their wings so the air can lift them from the branch, but part of my “mother soul” is stuck on repeat and I still want to tuck them into bed and hear their stories and lean in for the whispers of what matters to them and fall asleep knowing they are safe.

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