a place to call her own

Dear Grace,  I'm writing this to you because one day you might be interested to look around my blog, and maybe you will discover this entry.  One of my favorite memories this year, is when you set up shop in the guest bedroom closet to write newspapers on the old typewriter.  I loved your articles, and I have even saved a couple of editions.

Memories like these, are some of the happiest of childhood...creativity in its purest form.  I'm not sure what happens to us when we grow up, but we seem to lose that child like curiosity and excitement...the simple joy of pretending.  

You are really growing up, and it won't be long before you won't play like this anymore.

But I will cherish the memories.  Love, Mom