I can’t always make out what he is saying, but it doesn’t really matter. It is the tone of his voice. The playfulness of it. The innocence of his youthful banter. I’m talking about overhearing Jackson playing by himself, whether he is in the tub or in the next room it is just the same. It takes me back to my childhood. I can remember playing and talking and making up stories or dialogues of the toys I was playing with. These are the times and memories that will fade and be forgotten, but I don’t want to forget them. I tried to record him one time without him knowing it. I was able to get a little of this childhood imagination recorded. I can see myself 30 years from now finding that recording and being so glad I saved it. They grow up so fast, too fast. I don’t want it to go. I must find ways to enjoy every little bit I can. My boy is now my life. I love him so.
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