It's just the blanket that's covered my lap this evening as I've vegged in my chair, watching old TV show reruns. There's nothing mind-blowing about it; it's just a blanket that someone, somewhere made. It's warm and it provides me with a modicum of comfort as I rest (and cope with my now-flaring allergies). And for now, I guess that has to be enough.
We missed out on the first opening act because of an issue with the shuttle driver from the overflow parking lot vanishing for a while (and yes, it was very odd). But we got there in time to catch Little Big Town and our headliner guy. And both were excellent; so much fun. I sang along to all of the songs and danced in place in my new boots (and I will no doubt pay dearly for that indiscretion tomorrow since my calves already hurt).
And of course, as a nod to both Abby and Logan, we stuck around long enough to catch the first encore --"Country Girl"-- which was the music to the first mother/daughter dance Abby and I ever did together, back in 2012. That may well be one of the goofiest songs ever recorded, but it makes me smile every time I hear it, because it reminds me of that special time with my girl. And, as odd as it may sound, it also reminds me of my Sunshine, who passed away just months before the recital that year. He would've loved it, and that enthusiasm that I can see in my mind's eye and hear echoing throughout my heart inspires me to dance and sing and be goofy even now.
I may have enjoyed it more because Isaac had a good night: he made good contact during his two at-bats, and he got to play first, second, and third base. But best of all, I could tell how happy he was to be out there.
Seeing the joy on his face is totally worth the inconveniences.
It began with a few drops that were so light and far-between that I wasn't even sure they qualified as precipitation, but the clouds quickly dropped their pretense of harmlessness and a real, steady, soaking rain followed in short order. The boys grabbed their things and ran, shouting with glee, to the coach's truck.
After I ushered Abby and Brady into our car, I turned back and walked toward Isaac and his teammates. As I approached, I could hear the coach musing over whether they should wait it out or throw in the proverbial towel on the day's practice. Just then, the rain let up, and the clouds moved aside to once again allow the sun's rays to warm the earth. As the boys re-claimed their hats and gloves and headed back out to the field, I had a thought: how many times in this life have I had to choose between giving up and going home, and waiting out a storm? Plenty, I'm sure, because life requires patience and perseverance in the face of challenges. Given how I've felt lately, it was an important reminder, and I'm thankful to have received it.
He sat there quietly, with his movie pick -- Cars-- playing on the screen. His buddy Bear Bear and I watched him from across the room, and I marveled over how calm he was as the dentist did her thing. And just a short time later, the whole shebang was over. And then he did something even more amazing: as we walked back to our car, he started asking me to identify the symbols on the vehicles we passed. Toyota, Honda, Hyundai. He repeated the names as I identified them, and I was immediately transported back in time to when his biggest brother did the exact same thing. Logan had a unique talent for identifying cars, and seeing Brady do the same thing took my breath away.
I'm convinced: brothers share a bond, even when they're on opposite sides of the veil that separates humans and the glory that is Heaven.
On the brighter side, I went along with Brady's class on the annual nature hike.
The preschool hike is something of an institution, so even though I wanted to go sit by myself for a while and think, I didn't want to miss out on a "last," so I went along. He had fun collecting rocks and sticks in his bag and looking through his "binoculars" --which are really painted toilet paper tubes on string-- and walking with his classmates.
It's a special thing to be able to devote time to these precious little ones, and I'm thankful that they were able to make my frustrating day a little bit better.
As soon as we got the news and permission to visit, we drove up to Walnut Creek to meet the little guy. It was an amazing blessing to hold him and admire his sweet features and to see the kiddos hold him and stare at him. So much hope and promise in such a tiny package; it's such an incredible thing.
They coursed around an obstacle course, rolled giant balls, played with a parachute, and ran all over the place before sitting down for pizza and cake.
It was fun for him, of course, but it might've been more fun for me; after all, I got to watch my Muffin have a good time! I love seeing my kids let loose and have a good time, especially since I know how fleeting childhood really is.
For the past few Fridays, we've gone to dinner after her tap class and then headed to Hallmark so she could visit with him. She jogs to the back of the store where the Supermen are kept, calling out "I see him! I see Thuperman!" And then when she finds him, she grabs him and hugs him (and squeezes him and calls him George. Not really. But it begged the Looney Tunes reference because that short was gold). Today, she danced with Thuperman and then laughed so hard at herself that she cried.
I love that my girl feels so free to be herself no matter where she is and no matter who's watching. I don't know that I've ever had that kind of confidence, so seeing it in her is surreal. It makes my heart smile.
Although she gets under my skin like no one else, God made a pretty awesome person when he made my girl.
This is just one of the many beautiful, vibrant roses I found. I also found an apple tree that, based on the number of itty-bitty apples on its branches, is preparing to produce a bumper crop, and a host of orange blossoms that will no doubt yield fruit of their own ilk in a few months' time.
A lovely little spot, tended by God's hand (because Heaven knows I haven't done it!). It's amazing what He can do, even when we don't do much of anything to help.
I'm not a huge ice cream person, but when I indulge, I prefer chocolate-peanut butter, and that's precisely the kind that my hunny got at the store this past weekend. So that made two sweet blessings in one: I got to savor a tasty treat, and said treat was a gift just for me. Eating it served as a reminder to deliberately look for the sweet when the sour tries to take over.
I'm incredibly proud that one of my kids earned recognition not for hitting a lot of home runs or spelling a lot of words right, but for being a good person. Of course, it's good to be good at something and those kinds of awards are well-earned, but there's nothing like the sense of pride that came over me when I heard his teacher's words: that Isaac always has a kind word and that he's never said anything mean to anyone.
I take very little credit when it comes to his sweet spirit --that's just how God made him-- but I'm thankful to be able to call him one of my own, and I'm thankful that he's as awesome as he is --that they're all as awesome as they are-- in spite of my inadequacies as a parent. It's mercy at work.
I'm not a bug person (and seriously, some insects will send me screaming from a room), but I've always had a thing for ladybugs. Maybe it's because they're so whimsical-looking with their red bodies and black dots, or maybe it's because my mom used to call me ladybug when I was very young. Whatever the reason, they always make me smile and remember simpler times. And especially when adulting is challenging --like when your roof leaks and your ceiling is pending repairs and the tree roots that someone swore were gone aren't actually gone-- those reminders are a blessing.
Anyway, when we visited Logan's grave this afternoon, I noticed this tiny white wildflower. (It's hard to see it, but it's there if you look hard.) An itty bitty, pure little face, smiling up at us as it stretches toward the sun.
Sweet indeed.
A Logan-day, as we've come to call those that feature a clear blue sky overhead.
And it was a simple day, featuring Isaac's baseball game (that's him behind the plate in catcher's gear; you can see if you squint!), lunch at Red Tractor, our customary walk, dinner, and for me, a nice nap.
Just a simple, pleasant day. A blessing in one of the simplest forms possible.
Tonight Abby and I had dance, and as is our custom, we had fast food for dinner and then headed out to do some window shopping before class. I didn't feel like making the trek to Target, so this time we wound up at the Hallmark store in town. We wandered around looking at Itty Bittys and other sundries, when Abby suddenly stopped and said "Mom. Look."
I looked, but initially missed seeing it, so I said "What?" and as any self-respecting, exasperated pre-teen would do, she rolled her eyes at me and tapped on the cover of the book. My heart fluttered in my chest when I digested the words: When God Made Logan.
I don't know what it all means. I don't know why he was so present today. But I'm thankful when God gives me a window of sorts into my Sunshine's new world and lets me bask in those memories --and promises-- a little longer than usual.
I had coffee with my friend Sherrie this morning. We've gotten together for java a few times this year, and I've really enjoyed our chats. We just sit outside with our drinks and talk about whatever happens to come to mind: politics, kids, cars, whatever. One time, we watched with great interest as a motorcycle cop pulled over car after car after car. (We never did figure out the infraction, but he sure had a good day writing tickets!)
Anyway, friends are important. They make life better and brighter. And that's a good thing.
If not for the fact that his team had already notched two outs that particular inning and there was a force-out at second, he would've wound up standing on first base with a chance to do a little bit of running. Still, even as he ran to the dugout, we called out praises in his direction. He briefly made eye contact with me, and when our eyes met, I felt a jolt of joy when I recognized his joy. The elation of making solid contact with the ball made him so happy. And as his mom, that moment of intense happiness meant an awful lot to me. There's nothing quite like a parent/child relationship.
Today was yet another... disappointing day, I guess I'd call it. I had an unexpectedly early interview that got me up for the day at 4:50 AM, and then another two before 7:20 that featured unexpected (and unpleasant) snafus of their own. So I was tired all day long, and I am not a pleasant or patient person when I'm under-rested. (Given this observation, it was clearly only by the grace of God that I didn't lose my mind when I had a herd of small, non-sleeping children under my roof.)
Anyway, looking in the mirror, I was reminded that a lot of our experience in this life revolves around how we choose to view our circumstances. So even though I'm not loving mine at the moment, I'm going to work harder at finding the positives and letting them become my focus, because it's always a good thing to keep faith when facing frustrations.
As he pulled his super special ninja moves and threw his arms around like a whirling dervish, I couldn't help but smile. And then I smiled more when he posed for this photo and flashed the 'I love you' hands, just as his biggest brother used to do.
Precious are these moments. And I'm so thankful for them.
So this evening, I'm trying to decompress with this.
I bought it at Costco this afternoon (after the leak was noted but before the falling shingle incident and the power outage). It tastes good and better yet, it reminds me of Kaua'i, where I spent a lot of today wishing I still was! It brought me a little bit of Hawaiian cool, which I desperately needed after exhausting my own stores.
We haven't historically played many board games and virtually no card games at all; the kiddos have always been a wee bit too young for it to be any fun (for us or for them). But this trip put a new side of Abby, Isaac, and Brady on display for me. For the first time, I saw them as capable game-players: Brady tried his hardest to wear the kingmaker hat while playing Monopoly, and all three of them did quite well playing card games. It was rather jarring to realize how much more sophisticated and capable they are now, and it was amusing to realize that we could actually start to have real, live family game nights involving all of us. (Well, almost all of us, of course, though I'm sure Logan plays along in his own way.)
Yep, they're growing up. And that's a good thing indeed.
Logan may not have been with us in body, but he was there nonetheless. He was there with us in the way Abby immediately wrote his name in the sand before getting down to her serious seashell hunting business, and he was again there with us when Brady held up an L-shaped shell fragment he found and announced that it was an L for Logan.
I love that even when we're thousands of miles away from home, immersed in new experiences, he's still a part of our life. That will always and forever mean the world to me.
My eyes were drawn to the rows of dark rock and sediment in the sand, so I did as I often do when I'm by the ocean and stooped down to look for shells. I found a few little treasures, including a small but still whole striped one and a larger --but whole-- one that had clearly seen better days. And of course, I also found scores of broken pieces in a variety of colors and shapes.
As I sifted through the broken parts, I occasionally came across one that I just knew had been beautiful in its prime. After a few such finds, I stopped and mused --aloud-- "they're broken but they're still so beautiful."
And of course, the full weight of my words rung in my ears, so I said it again. (Had anyone been there to see me they'd have probably thought I'd fallen from my rocker.) It's true: like the seashells, we're broken. But also like the seashells, we're still beautiful despite our cracks and bruises and scrapes, and despite our "missing" pieces, whether they're literal missing limbs or figurative ones, like loved ones who have moved on and left "holes" in our lives.
I'm sure that at some point over the last few years, I've made the same observation, but it bears repetition. So there you go.
And fun they did have. Abby snorkeled with Adam's parents and reported back on the fish she saw underwater. Isaac enjoyed riding a boogie board and wading in the water near the shore. And Brady created an epic wall of sand.
I spent my time watching them from a chair (though I did take a brief dip in the Pacific, mostly so I could say I did) and walking up and down the beach. At one point, as I neared one end of the sand's expanse, I looked up and found an enormous sea turtle on the sand in front of me. (Then I noticed the sign that indicated that endangered sea turtles hung out there. Duh me.) So I went back and got the kids so they could take a gander (and so I could take a pic). It was neat to see an endangered creature just sitting right there in front of us.
Then later this evening, Adam and I went out to dinner by ourselves in Lihue. Alone time is always a good thing!
This entry wandered a lot, I know, but it's mostly because I wanted to remember it all. And because I wanted to be fully mindful of all of the different blessings I enjoyed in a single day's time: picking my own food at a farm, hanging out with my family and watching my children have a blast, seeing one of God's less plentiful creatures out in nature, and spending time one on one time with my hunny. All good things indeed.
When it's not shrouded in cloud cover, it's a stunning overlook. Adam and I saw it the last time we were in Kaua'i four years ago, and the sweeping views of the lush greenery and the ocean are well-worth the relatively slow drive up the mountain. So it was a bit disappointing that the kids didn't get to take it in.
Still, as I looked at this image, I had a few separate thoughts.
First off, there's an extraordinarily gorgeous view right there beside them on the other side of the fence, but it's hidden under that thick bank of clouds. The fact that it's right there and they couldn't see it is maddening, but I wonder if maybe that's how God feels about human beings and the good things He does for us, both here and in Heaven later: they're right there but we so often miss them because we're either not looking or our circumstances are such that our view is blocked.
At the same time, it also served as a reminder that just because I can't see God --just because He's not right there in front of me parting rivers-- doesn't mean He's not there at all. It just takes faith to keep walking and believing that what we can't always see is still real nonetheless.
Just a few little tidbits to nibble on, if you like.
It was a good day all around, but my flagrant moment came during our time at that little beach.
As I turned to take a picture of the seascape, I noticed the yellow leaf floating in the water near my feet. I did a double take when I realized that it was shaped like a perfect heart. And of course, I took a photo so I'd remember it.
Love is everywhere. That's the message of aloha, and it was a more than appropriate message for me as Logan's sister and brothers gleefully splashed and played in the water behind me: love is in the ocean and the sky and in each of us. And that's a beautiful reality.
Anyhow, today was a busy one. We walked to the Spouting Horn and then swung through the club house on the way back home before hitting the pool. Then a little later we introduced the kiddos to shave ice at the place here in Koloa --cotton candy was the most popular flavor selection for our brood-- and came home again, where there was Warriors game-watching, treat-seeking at the club house, cake-baking for Adam's mom's birthday, and a rather spirited game of Monopoly that saw Brady wheelin' and dealin' like a mini shark. Then this evening, we again headed back to the club for dinner.
We had a nice family-style meal of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, biscuits, cole slaw, corn on the cob, and strawberry shortcake. Afterward, we headed home and sang happy birthday to Mom as we presented the cake.
So yeah, busy day. But we ventured through its events en masse, as a unit. And small snafus and disagreements aside, it's always a blessing to have family around.
I'm totally serious about this: being in Hawaii makes me feel closer to God. I know people like to call it paradise but I'm not being the slightest bit flip or kitschy when I make that claim. After the kiddos went to bed (very tired and a wee bit sunburned, but also quite happy), the grown-ups sat around the fire pit for a while, staring at the vast sea of stars overhead. And for the first time in quite a while, I felt compelled to pray, and not just a quick little 'thanks God, Amen', but I felt drawn into a genuine conversation. I don't know if it's because I over-commit or because my life is filled with distractions that don't allow me to hear God's small, still voice or because I ignore it wen I do hear it.
So tonight, it was a blessing to just sit in the stillness and pray for a while.
I was in charge of the egg-dyeing station. Courtesy of what I'm guessing was a bit of white crayon, a white cross appeared on the shell of each egg after it had been dipped into the dye. It was fun for me to retrieve the eggs and point out the cross, and then listen to their reactions. Some didn't say anything; some smiled and exclaimed "like Jesus on the cross!"
It was simply a nice reminder that little children are truly precious. It's no wonder Jesus loved them as much as He did (and does!).
