My mom made the sweetest little dusters years ago—one for our son Bode, one for the twins’ dad, and one for Lake when they were tiny. I kept them carefully stored away, never knowing when the right moment would come.
Today, I pulled them out for the kids.
Bennett’s was a bit snug now, but Tallie’s fit perfectly, like it was made just for her. The second they slipped them on, my heart melted. They looked absolutely precious—laughing, admiring themselves, and proudly wearing something their great-grandma had made with her own hands.
I caught the most beautiful video of them talking about Grandma Sherrie and Papa Roger, saying their names so confidently, so lovingly. It hit me all at once how rare and special that is—how lucky they are to still have their great-grandparents in their lives.
They don’t get to see my mom and dad often, but it doesn’t matter. They know exactly who they are. They feel that connection. That love has somehow carried itself across time, fabric, and stories.
I had to share this moment—not just because it’s adorable (though it absolutely is), but because I want this memory to resurface years from now. I want to remember the tiny dusters, the way they fit, the sound of their voices, and how deeply special it felt in that moment.
Some things are too sweet not to hold onto. 💙🩷
