I never want to forget
how your little feet sounded against the wood floor
as you ran toward me, arms wide,
like I was the whole world.
I never want to forget
the way your hand searched for mine
in the middle of the night,
half-asleep, fully trusting.
I never want to forget
the crumbs under the kitchen table,
the mismatched socks,
the drawings taped to the wall
with more love than tape.
I never want to forget
the way you say “just one more” —
one more story, one more cuddle, one more minute.
I never want to forget
that this is the magic.
Not the milestones.
Not the perfection.
But the quiet, ordinary, golden moments
that don’t ask to be remembered
— and still somehow stay.
