When I walked these streets

I must have walked this street a dozen times with my son. Trailing behind him as he rode up and down the slanted incline. I could remember doing the same thing for my daughter. Spending hours on this street, just the two of us, walking up and down as she was enthralled by the simplest things. Talking about all of life's marvelous possessions and throwing in a few laughter moments. Even venturing outdoors on clear winter days when I was 8 months pregnant because, both of us were begging for fresh air. Today, my son squealed his way down the street, stopping to exam fallen pine cones, the same way his sister once did. We parked the quad off the road to wander through some nearby woods, gathering sticks and acorns to paint, again, just as his sister and I did. Anymore, my daughter isn't interested in driving a power wheel toy up and down a street. So, instead she walks by my side, with her hand in mine, as we both follow behind him. She helps me hold the loose pine cones and sticks that he saves and even occasionally chases him, just to get him to laugh. In that moment I realize, time doesn't seem to pass unless you have something to compare it to. Seeing my daughter walk by my side instead of riding her once beloved quad and now that image is being replaced by my son, is hard to process. Sometimes, I still feel like I'm walking those same streets with my 2 year old daughter and lugging my big ole pregnant belly around.