The middle of the night is when I miss my mama the most. She slipped away from illness when I was only 7. I think about her as I rock my newborn son to sleep. Bleary-eyed and yearning for her advice, I glance at my cellphone. The screen illuminates the dimple on my son’s cheek, a dimple that has been passed down to a third generation. Sometimes on these nights, I long for the past. But, as morning breaks, I hear my toddler chirping “Mama” and I am reminded that my past is also my present. — Ashley Arrington Blas

What a cutie! Such a gorgeous smile and lovely dimples.
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She is adorable…
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You just want to give her a cuddle
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Those midnight hours will do it to you everytime.
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Individual thoughts are often the loudest in the quiet moments…
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