March 31

Easter. The day that makes the pains of human life feel a little less intense. The promise of life beyond this one.

Not to be terribly terse, but it's a very good day.

Today was clear and beautiful early on, when Abby and Isaac tried (and failed) to get up at 6:30. Then there were clouds, followed by intermittent showers throughout the afternoon and evening hours. It's not generally my favorite kind of weather, but, well, if you look, you can find amazing things just about anywhere.

As we drove to Adam's parents' house mid-day, I looked out the window and saw this:

I showed it to Adam, and he didn't see what I did; what compelled me to take the picture and use it as today's wink. But I'm using it anyway. I saw, very clearly, two hearts of blue amid the clouds. Significant both because Easter is all about love, and also because Logan's favorite color was blue. A salient reminder of the past coupled with great hope for the future.

Happy Easter, friends of mine. He is risen.

March 30

I've seen posts all over Facebook reminding people that Easter isn't about bunnies and colored eggs and chocolate. And they're right. Mostly.

We dyed Easter eggs this evening. It's an annual tradition for us, and the kids love watching the transformation as the eggs go from a decidedly unimpressive white to stunning, cheerful shades of pink, blue and green.

But back to my point: Easter is not about the eggs. It's about Jesus. We are the ones who are like the eggs. We're all plain white eggs in this life, but thanks to Jesus' sacrifice on our behalf, we all have a chance to be transformed into beautiful colored eggs some day. (As an aside, as a mega white chick, there are exactly zero racial undertones in this post. Seriously. I'm about as close to alabaster as you can get while still having a pulse.) I wish Logan could be here, but I know that he's moved on to his new form. And when I look at that vibrant blue egg in the picture, it makes me think of him.

And that, in an eggshell, is why I can very much see God in dyeing eggs.

March 29

Here's an easy one for your Friday.

We went to the park today with Abby and Isaac's friends Kole and Jake. I believe God is very much involved with our friendships, including the ones we forge during our early years. Friends like us even when we do the wrong things, and are there for us when times are good --and not so good. And those relationships are essential when it comes to determining who we'll be in the future.

March 28

If I were one of those chicks who's constantly mugging for the camera with that gosh-awful duck face that's become so popular (why? WHY?! Seriously y'all, that expression flatters no one. High school gals, I'm talking primarily to you) this post would be entirely self-indulgent. But as truth has it, I'm generally one to avoid the camera. So here goes.

This is me this afternoon, shortly after Brady asked me to wear the kids' red plastic fireman's hat.

I took the picture merely to make him laugh. But when I looked at it later, I thought wow. There's a lot of truth in that photo.

What are moms if not wearers of many different hats? Mom, wife, referee, taxi driver, housekeeper, manager, nurse, counselor, teacher. Student. And that just scratches the surface.

Even though all of those hats feel like they're simply too much at times, it's such an incredible blessing to be able to wear them, even when we think we look completely ridiculous.

March 27

Today was a busy one. Despite my own tiredness, I decided to let the kiddos play for a while after school this afternoon. At one point, Isaac told me he wanted to show me a special trick. And he did this:

The little guy hung there for quite a while, until the veins on his hands popped out a little and his face twisted in discomfort. But still, he didn't want to let go. So I did what any mom who doesn't want her kid to break or twist a limb does and put an arm around his waist so he could comfortably drop to the ground.

I didn't think much of it at the time, but in hindsight, at 11:20 PM after a long day, it's funny how much the memory of Isaac doggedly holding on to that bar until I helped him down reminds me of... well, me.

Only in a way, I think I'm still holding on to my bar. Because you know, adults are stubborn like that. Sometimes we don't even let go when we know there's a safety net there to catch us. It amazes me to realize both how much I can still learn from my kids, and how kid-like I am myself. There's comfort for me in both notions.

March 26

Today was hard. I went to bed last night crying and woke up feeling much the same. I asked God to be real --undeniably real-- to me today. And I think He was.

I took Isaac to his dance class this morning, and while I was there, my friend Tammy asked me how I was doing. And we chatted. And suddenly, I heard her telling me things --giving me pieces of advice and encouragement-- that were precisely what I needed to hear at that moment. So (much to her horror) I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo.

I love it when God speaks to me through others' words. And I really love it when I realize that it's happening in the moment. It is --for lack of a better, more descriptive term-- a truly magical experience.

March 25

I started watching Dancing with the Stars back in 2006, when I was pregnant with Logan and desperate to find something entertaining to watch that would get me through a few hours of nausea a week.

Seven years and a lot of changes later, it's still a part of my Monday night routine. Somehow, it's comforting to watch those familiar faces hoofing it alongside random celebrities. Trivial? Yes. But fun? Absolutely. And albeit a weird one, it's definitely a blessing to me.

March 24

Extra super specially simple one today.

Abby and I went for a three-mile walk this afternoon to help us "train" (and I use the word very loosely) for a 5K that we quite possibly were (ahem) manipulated into running (or more accurately, walking because ha HA this mama don't run!) next month. As we neared the end of the journey, we both saw a beautiful pink flower that had somehow managed to sprout right smack in the middle of a patch of green grass.

We stopped to admire it and puzzled over how it'd come to exist --and apparently thrive-- in such an unlikely place. I saw God in it for lots of reasons, but most profoundly in the truth that we can survive and be content even when transplanted to unfamiliar places that don't seem to fit our personalities or preferences. That's a big one for me, since I'm an East Coast girl living in a West Coast world, away from all that was familiar to me as I grew up. Away from the lion's share of the people I love the most. But hey, if the flower can make it and do well, so can I, right?

Bloom on, little flower.

March 23

When I launched my internet browser this evening, I immediately saw this:

Logan would've loved this: a whole spread devoted to Corvettes. As I flipped through the pages, I got the sense that somehow, he does love it -- even though I can't see that adoration. Kind of a nice way to end a day.

March 22

This may well be my corniest entry yet, but that's okay. Sometimes I'm corny.

This is a bud on our pear tree. I remember the landscaper assuring me that though the old blooms had fallen away and the branches were chopped until nearly nothing remained, it would come back. I'd have that thought -- it'll come back-- each and every time I looked out my slider into the backyard. But it wasn't until today that I realized how much I have in common with that tree.

Watching Logan suffer, endure treatment, and then die anyway left me worn in ways I can't even begin to describe. Chopped. Pulverized. Just a hair shy of destroyed.

But in the back of my head, I think I always knew that eventually, I would come back.

None of this is to say that I'm back all the way, because I'm definitely not. I'm still worn out, and I feel like an inadequate parent no matter what I do. After all, I couldn't save my own child. But I'm getting better. Like the tree, I'm starting to feel like I'm opening up and becoming receptive to life again.

And for all of that, I'm grateful.

March 21

Yep, totally serious: I see God in a bag of Veggie Straws.

Begs and pleads for a great explanation, right? I wish it were exciting, but it's actually very simple. I'm the co-op parent in Isaac's preschool class tomorrow morning. After dinner, I checked the snack menu to see what I'd need to run to the store to buy, only to discover that we already had the exact item listed: Veggie Straws.

That bag saved me a trip and gave me a few extra minutes to sit in my comfy chair and, well, at the risk of being punny, veg. And for that very simple thing, I'm grateful.

March 20

This is our cat, Violet.

She's been my furry little buddy for almost 13 years now. I adopted her from the ASPCA a few months after I graduated from college, and she was my sole constant companion when I lived in an apartment in the months before Adam and I got married.

I've developed a cat allergy in recent years, so our interactions are significantly more limited than they once were, but it's still nice to spend my evenings with her curled up near my feet, just... being. Because sometimes, we all need to take the time to forget our worries and just be.

March 19

I felt a surge of pride as I helped Abby try on her dance recital costume this evening. Moments later, I felt a wave of nostalgia as I watched her tap her way through The Locomotion wearing said costume.

It's not uncommon for people to refer to her as my mini-me these days. We do look alike, just as I looked like my mom when I was young. And there was something intangibly special about seeing her tap in her sassy way, just like I did 25 years ago at about the same age.

I know I'm deeply flawed, but it makes my heart happy to see some of the good, fun-loving parts of myself in my daughter.

March 18

Today's wink was of the 'refreshingly easy to spot' ilk. When I got in the car to take Abby to school this morning, I noticed that Adam had changed the radio station. Just as I went to return it to its usual resting spot, I heard the bars of "Life is a Highway." And I turned it up, and pointed it out to the kids.

It was --and still is, in a way-- Logan's song. So whenever I hear it, I feel like he's close by, shamelessly shakin' his groove thang and singing along. And that's always a blessing to me.

March 17

After a few days of disappointing results, today proved an exceptionally good freelancing day. An article I threw together earned the top spot on Google News for a very popular keyword, and as a result, it attracted lots of attention.

Does God care that I get lots of hits on an article? Probably not. But I think He does like seeing me smile now and again over the little things in life. And of course, I'm grateful to Him for these little things.

March 16

Today, we attended a bridal shower for Adam's cousin Jenni and her fiance, James. The skies were clear, the air warm and the weather indubitably beautiful. I took lots of photos (like I typically do), and at one point, I handed over my camera so someone else could take one with me in it. And here we are.

(Just as a random side note, I'm a creature of habit: I've taken every single photo I've used for this blog with my camera phone. And this one is no different. Though it was taken with my good DSLR so a very high-res version of the image exists on my hard drive, I took a picture of the picture. With my iPhone.)

Anyhow, I see God in family. And in the chance to be together with people I don't see often. And, as the picture suggests, in silliness. This was, clearly, a 'silly' picture. Sure, we took a bunch of serious ones too, but there's something whimsical and fun and just plain light about silly photos. And I think God smiles over them as much as we do, since they're such tangible records of good times.

Don't you think? I sure do.

March 15

We went for a family walk this evening before dinner, and as we strolled, this field of mustard flowers drew my attention.

To my eyes, the little blooms looked like a sea of tiny suns. And sunshine --both the literal and figurative types-- is an integral, God-given aspect of my life.

March 14

At some point this morning, Brady walked up to me and chirped kiss! Despite his snotty little nose, I obliged, because though he's a sweet boy, he doesn't often solicit affection in such flagrant fashion. Moments later, he said hug! And again, I obliged. And yet again moments later, he chirped hug, other side! And I hugged him again. It was probably the best part of my day.

And just for posterity's sake, I took this picture a few moments later, just so I could remember how it felt. I know I say it all the time, but I see a lot of God in my babies.

March 13

Abby and I went for a walk late this evening after dinner. As we strolled, she looked up at the sky and noticed the moon, and how it looked like a smiley face. Then she mused that maybe it was Logan smiling, way up in Heaven. And today's wink was born:

Kind of a silly idea, but one that's rife with meaning for us.

March 12

I passed by this branch on my way home today and immediately thought wow, I can see God in that intermingling of color. I took a few more steps, and then went back to take its picture because, well, I don't often have thoughts like that.

I find it remarkable that though we're just a handful of days from the official start of Spring, trees still boast a mixture of vibrant green leaves and colorful, Fall-like foliage.

Totally simple to the core, but color is a blessing.

March 11

It's the little things.

I've said it before, and it's still true: I'm not a big nature girl. But tonight's sunset was a stunner. A beautiful picture painted by God, composed of the perfect blend of clouds, rising mist and waning sunlight.

March 10

Adam joined me as a member of Club 35 today. After a visit to the cemetery and before a long walk around the neighborhood, we laid on the living room carpet for a few minutes, just being silly.

We met in college when we were both 18. I thought he was completely obnoxious. He thought I looked sickly. But somehow, by the time we were both 19, we were dating. And at 24, we got married. And the rest, as the cliche says, is history.

Of course I see God in my husband every single day, in one way or another. But today, his birthday, seemed the best of all possible days to give him the props he deserves. Happy birthday, hunny. I love you!

March 9

I had a hard time picking today's subject. I mentally debated between two choices: the expansive, clear blue sky or the surprising discovery, via an old home movie, that Adam's younger brother sounded exactly like Logan when he was a small boy.

And then I saw this while checking my Google Analytics stats, and I knew this was my wink.

It won't mean much to anyone but our immediate family, but I laughed aloud when I saw that city name pop up.

Why? "Ichikawa" was one of the silly, nonsensical words that Logan would utter when trying to make us laugh. He used it so often that it became part of his schtick. In fact, Abby and Isaac still use it now when they're trying to be funny, in homage to their brother.

But until tonight, I had no idea that it was a city in Japan. The fact that I saw it pop up during a 30-second or so window is so meaningful to me, because it's not like I sit around watching my stats particularly often. Nor do I get an overwhelming number of hits from Japanese readers.

A good chuckle and a good, lighthearted kind of wink.

March 8

Today, I felt God in the wind.

Obviously, it's a challenge to get a picture of the wind since it's an intangible, but this image, which I snapped while walking outside this afternoon, conveys the feeling it gave me. Though it tousled my hair and chilled me a bit, there was something refreshing --renewing-- about its presence.

March 7

I snapped this picture earlier today and just knew it was meant for tonight's entry. I could feel God telling me there! Take a picture of that. But I didn't know why.

These are Brady's little feet, all snuggled up inside a pair of cozy pajamas. Or more accurately, they're his toes, busting out of a pair of comfy but well-worn pajamas.

So what's the significance? After thinking on it a bit, I believe it's all about family and legacy.

That may sound a little nuts, but stay with me. Brady's wearing those PJs now, but before he wore them, Isaac did. And before Isaac had them, they belonged to Logan.

Three brothers, connected by a tattered pair of pajamas.

Kinda poetic.

March 6

Today was another melody kind of day. I know I've said it before, but it's still true: music speaks to me. And sometimes, God uses it to speak to me.

This song, Garth Brooks' Learning to Live Again, has always made me cry, but even moreso since Logan was diagnosed and subsequently passed on. Why? Because I feel like in a lot of ways, I am indeed in the process of figuring out how to live without him.

Learning to live again.

I may not have outward physical scars, but that doesn't mean I don't feel broken. It doesn't mean that I don't feel different. And I definitely don't feel like I fit in much of the time. So I told myself at the very beginning of the year that if I ever heard this song on the radio, I'd know it was for me. So when it came on as I was driving Isaac to preschool this morning, I knew it was today's little reminder. And I cried. It was a good cry, but a cry nonetheless.

It's something I do more than I admit now while I'm... da-dum... learning to live again.

March 5

Sometimes, a wink is about a memory.

I noticed a splinter in my palm this evening. It's an itty bitty one and it doesn't hurt at all, so I have no idea how long I've had it. But when I saw it, I had a flashback from three or four years ago, back when Logan was still a healthy, sweet, vibrant little boy.

As we returned home from an outing one afternoon, he ran his hand along our fence, a misstep which left him with about 25 miniscule splinters embedded in his miniature palm. A trip to the pediatrician ensued, and as the doctor patiently removed splinter after splinter, my little Logan sat calmly on the exam table, licking a lollipop.

No complaints, no whining, no fear. Just a calm acceptance of the simple fact that his actions had unfortunate consequences. I miss that kid so much. But today, my splinter drew him a little closer to my heart.

March 4

Today was really a lovely day. I woke up in a good mood, and the positive frame of mind persisted throughout the morning and afternoon and into the evening hours. There are plenty of winks I could point to, but I'll go with this one.

This year's mother/daughter dance is California-themed. Just this past Saturday, our teacher talked costume turkey, and we decided to go with brightly colored shirts and jeans. When I saw this shirt today, it made me... happy. It's such a cheerful print and the vibrant selection of pinks and purples perfectly suited Abby's previously stated color preference. Better yet, I showed them to her and she was enthused.

Now it's a girls'-sized shirt, so if I gain a single pound it won't fit come recital time, but I choose to be optimistic. I found it, it's perfect, and it will fit!

March 3

Days that afford me the opportunity to see members of my original immediate family are always special ones. And fortunately for me, today was one of them.

(Excuse he upside down-ness. It just doesn't want to turn the right way! But just so you don't think you're missing something key, I'll tell you that we look pretty much the same right-side up. Promise.)

My younger brother Charlie and his partner Alexi were up from LA this weekend, and came by for a brief visit this afternoon before heading back home. It was so good to reconnect, even though our time together was short. After all, this is the guy who was my primary partner in kiddie crime: building forts, playing with Cabbage Patch dolls, scheming creative ways to earn pocket change.

I'm grateful that I had him growing up, I'm grateful that I have him now, and I'm grateful that I can see God in our shared past as siblings growing up together. Even if we don't see one another nearly often enough as adults.

March 2

Although the sun spent today hidden behind a veil of cottony clouds, the afternoon afforded perfect walking weather. And we, of course, happily took advantage of the temperate air.

The recent warmth has encouraged the local cherry trees to bloom, and I marveled over the pretty blossoms as we strolled the streets of our neighborhood.

So delicate and sweet and miraculously made, even when scattered along the sidewalk. A reminder that beauty can be found anywhere at all. Even atop squares of concrete in suburbia.

March 1

Be forewarned: this is a strange one.

It's hard to see, but this is the t-intersection next to my house. I was crossing the street this evening when I was almost hit by a car. It was driven by a guy who didn't bother to look for pedestrians before making a too-fast left turn.

He was way down the street when I started to cross. So far away, in fact, that I didn't give his car half a thought until he turned suddenly and I found myself staring at his headlights. He finally saw me, slammed on his breaks, I jumped... it was, to be succinct and devoid of emotion, horrifying. When all was said and done, he missed me by about a foot. Twelve little inches separated me from potentially serious injury. Once my heart dislodged from my throat, I whirled around and asked what on earth he was thinking. He just stared at me for a moment, and drove away without a word. I hope it scared him and he'll slow down from now on.

So what does this have to do with this blog? It's pretty simple: God was there. That car could very easily have hit me and done significant damage. But that didn't happen. And for that, I'm so grateful.