
Lasterday (eBook, ePUB)
Erscheint vor. 01.12.25
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At just three years old, my first granddaughter spoke with a charming mix of confidence and creativity. She used words like Lasterday, Nexterday, and Inaminnit to describe time in her own way-shaped partly by her father's procrastinations."Dad, what doin' Lasterday?""Cake, Inaminnit.""Home, Nexterdaykay?"These whimsical words became more than toddler talk. They captured fleeting, treasured moments-echoes of times and places that no longer exist except in memory.Lasterday is a work of love-a playful, heartfelt attempt to share with my grandchildren the freedom, joy, and wonder of a cherished pa...
At just three years old, my first granddaughter spoke with a charming mix of confidence and creativity. She used words like Lasterday, Nexterday, and Inaminnit to describe time in her own way-shaped partly by her father's procrastinations.
"Dad, what doin' Lasterday?"
"Cake, Inaminnit."
"Home, Nexterdaykay?"
These whimsical words became more than toddler talk. They captured fleeting, treasured moments-echoes of times and places that no longer exist except in memory.
Lasterday is a work of love-a playful, heartfelt attempt to share with my grandchildren the freedom, joy, and wonder of a cherished past. Like the cold, clear mountain streams of my youth, those moments have flowed beyond my reach, living now only in memory.
In writing this, I found a way to unlock something deeply personal, and I offer it to you. May it help you revisit your own sweet yesterdays-and inspire you to share them with those you love.
Lasterday, I rode my bike beneath bright stars in the hills of my childhood. I pray my children and grandchildren, with faith and guidance, will ride their paths toward lives full of joy-and create their own beautiful Nexterdays to pass on, maybe Inaminnit.
"Dad, what doin' Lasterday?"
"Cake, Inaminnit."
"Home, Nexterdaykay?"
These whimsical words became more than toddler talk. They captured fleeting, treasured moments-echoes of times and places that no longer exist except in memory.
Lasterday is a work of love-a playful, heartfelt attempt to share with my grandchildren the freedom, joy, and wonder of a cherished past. Like the cold, clear mountain streams of my youth, those moments have flowed beyond my reach, living now only in memory.
In writing this, I found a way to unlock something deeply personal, and I offer it to you. May it help you revisit your own sweet yesterdays-and inspire you to share them with those you love.
Lasterday, I rode my bike beneath bright stars in the hills of my childhood. I pray my children and grandchildren, with faith and guidance, will ride their paths toward lives full of joy-and create their own beautiful Nexterdays to pass on, maybe Inaminnit.
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