Wide awake, I sat up in bed before a hint of light entered the room. I’d had another dream about Jennifer, my middle child. She’s 38 now, a wife and a mother of three. Usually, in my dreams, she’s still a little girl—shy, freckle-faced and with a brightly colored headband holding back her shiny auburn hair. I loved her hair. I’d brush it into a ponytail and kiss the tiny hollow at the back of her neck before she left for school.
Jennifer was a mama’s girl. I never minded being called in the middle of the night to rescue her from a slumber party. “I have a stomachache, Mama,” she would complain, but we both knew she was homesick. I loved having her snuggle next to me as we drove home at 2 a.m. We fit together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
Jennifer had been five years old and her older sister, Julie, seven, when the twins were born. Everything changed.
The boys demanded so much of my time and energy, I hardly had any left for their older sisters. I was constantly exhausted—and short-tempered. Writing became my only escape. In retrospect, I saw it so clearly. Sweet, quiet Jennifer, sandwiched between the others, required almost nothing from me.
Denne historien er fra May 2021-utgaven av Guideposts.
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Denne historien er fra May 2021-utgaven av Guideposts.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
Allerede abonnent? Logg på
In the Everyday
Cooking, cleaning, breaking up the kids’ fights... If only I had a few minutes for myself!
Worst-Case Scenario?
I’d had nagging injuries before and always recovered. Why wasn’t I confident that I would get better this time?
Honor Thy Son
I was a Marine officer, a lifer—or so I thought. Then came Patrick
Keeping It Real
In an age of social media, we're experiencing an epidemic of loneliness. Two friends who met online tell you how to grow an authentic connection
What You Wish For
She never wanted to see her abusive father again
God's Pillow
In 2016, the Soberanes Fire in Northern California was the costliest ever in the United States. It almost cost me my life, despite the promise I made to my wife
"I Heard You Praying"
As a hospital chaplain, I had seen hopeless cases. But never one more seemingly hopeless than this
"I Love You, Dad!"
Some of your favorite GUIDEPOSTS writers share what they learned from their fathers
Harold and Me
They’re nearly all gone now, the generation we call The Greatest.” This woman’s mission was to honor one of them
The Race Before Her
For this Olympic champion, success bred her greatest fear. How five verses set her free