It was, all in all, a great day. Abby and I continued our tradition of doing some Black Friday shopping together, and at our very first stop, I ran into someone with whom I'd had a falling out several years ago and was blessed with the chance to make it right. Then after our shop-hopping, we had lunch with one of Abby's best friends and her mom. Then later in the afternoon, the five of us (plus Lambie, of course) visited the Christmas tree lot to get our tree for the year, and as I write, our house is warm with the scent of fresh pine and the glow of brightly colored lights. It's hard to pick a single standout moment, but if I let my heart make the choice, this is the one that made it simultaneously leap and sigh with the perfect mix of nostalgia, joy, and wistfulness.
When we got out of the car at the tree lot, the Little Boys ran down the sidewalk. I called to them to slow it down a bit and be careful, and they decided to... tango.
I have no idea what compelled their striking display of "Dancing with the Stars"-worthy material, but I caught my breath as a series of distinct memories of Logan dancing played in my mind. For half a second, I felt like I couldn't breathe, and then I just watched them and smiled. I love them. And it's such an incredible blessing when Logan manages to "show up" just when I'm in danger of feeling a truly profound sense of loss.
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