Today started of well enough, with more of our
Gilmore Girls marathon and then a trip to the library. At some point, Abby disappeared to her room, which in and of itself isn't an uncommon occurrence. Then dinnertime rolled around and she came downstairs and sprawled across the couch. She didn't even attempt to touch her food and in fact seemed repulsed by it. And then she ran to the bathroom and the vomiting began. (Sorry. It's just my reality.) I was justifiably annoyed; after all, when these bugs hit our house, I almost never escape unscathed. Adam? Definitely. Isaac? Hardly ever goes down. Brady? A little less fortunate, but hey, he's young and they're like little petri dishes. But me? I've historically caught
everything, so the idea of a virus in my house... disturbing.
So I ventured out to Target to buy ginger ale, crackers, and applesauce (and disinfectant spray. I felt a sudden need for disinfectant spray). As I pulled into the parking lot, I looked over and saw this in the distance:
The sun's bright, late-day rays beaming off of the side of a beautiful yellow Corvette (which, of course, was Logan's signature kind of car).
It may seem silly, but in that moment, I had a realization that though this is a frustrating situation, the sun still shines, and it will be okay in a few days. So I took a breath, thanked God, and sent up a wave to my sweet boy.
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