So we headed out at 10'ish this morning and --after a quick, facepalm-inducing run back home for someone who realized he'd forgotten to put on his shoes-- the journey began.
It was a quiet ride, and at one point along the way, Adam remarked that it was strange that no one was crying or complaining or playing the "how much longer?" card. I replied that I was glad that they'd matured enough to make the ride a quiet one, but he said he kind of missed the cacophony. And that made me think a bit.
Life is so much about phases and changes and seasons. And this annual tradition of ours makes that truth obvious. When I look back at this series of photos, I see kids added and I see them growing and changing and getting taller than me. And I see fashion senses changing and attitudes appearing and disappearing. I see life. And though I wish this life was less painful at times, I see beauty, because at its core, this life --with all of its twists and turns and heartaches and triumphs-- is just that: beautiful. And I am grateful.
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