July 4

It doesn't seem like it's been a year since we first watched the fireworks from the top of the cemetery's highest point, but somehow, it has. We returned this evening to see them once again with Logan's freshly bathed and pajama'd siblings in tow. It wasn't the smoothest of evenings; Abby carried on in a fit of pre-teen drama from the way back seat and Isaac worried that the police would come and arrest us (or give us a ticket). Only Brady was in good spirits. But once we settled in and the peaceful, silent solitude of the experience enveloped us, the mood changed dramatically.

We gathered together, first on the bench we occupied one year ago and shortly thereafter just a few paces down the hill where Abby discovered a better spot for viewing, watching as one glittering display of magnificence after another exploded in the night sky.

As I silently stood and observed the show, I marveled over how amazing fireworks really are; over how remarkable it is that mere humans can create such creative and powerful art. I also marveled over what a blessing it is that we once again were able to watch them together, in a place we so often visit to remember and honor Logan, away from the partygoers who I'm sure were whooping and hollering in celebration below.

On holidays, it's important to us to be together but separate from the madding crowd, and I'm thankful to God for providing the opportunity.