I snapped this a few moments after Adam took the Little Boys up to bed. She was trying to stealthily steal the cheeseburger Brady didn't touch, and I busted her. The laughter that followed was magical. Those sweet moments tucked into otherwise tiring days are such blessings, and I know I'm definitely guilty of missing most of them. But I caught this one.
The soft light, the colors, the freshness of a forest-green tree. It practically begged me to approach and take its picture. And then when I did, I noticed that I could see my reflection in those shiny ornaments.
I'm tired and the words aren't really coming to me, but there was something sweet about seeing myself there on that tree.
It all came about quite simply: we were just about finished eating when an employee checked in to see if we wanted refills. Without thinking, I popped the top off of my cup and handed it to her. She asked if I wanted more ice, and I glanced in the cup and said no, but the second I caught a glimpse of those little crunchy bits of ice, I wished I'd said otherwise.
See, the ice at Chick-fil-A is the same kind of ice that I ate in mass quantities while Logan was an inpatient at CHO. I love that ice. And I love that it reminds me of my Sunshine, even if the memory is definitively bittersweet.
Who'da thunk that a glance inside a paper could be ever be so meaningful? An unexpected blessing indeed.
After dinner, we gathered in front of the TV to watch "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." I invited Brady to come cuddle with me, and we sat like this throughout the flick, and then through the three Disney shorts that Adam decided we'd watch next. I closed my eyes more than once to just breathe him in.
There's something so sweet about just being together.
Later, we started the process of decorating our tree. I got out the mini Christmas mugs I've had in the cabinet for years and whipped up some hot cocoa, and Adam turned on the Christmas tunes and lugged several years' worth of decorations in from the garage. And we got to work.
And to be totally honest, my heart wasn't in it. I want to enjoy the fun trimmings of celebrating this season, but it's hard because we're not all here. Logan can't put his ornaments on the tree and he can't create new ones. He can't pose for photos with his siblings and he can't dance around the living room like a fool to the sounds of Bing Crosby. My life will never be as sweet as it once was, and that's a hard truth to face when surrounded by happy people and their beautiful, whole families.
But these smiles make it easier to weather the harder days.
When Abby and Logan and even Isaac were really little people, I used to take gobs of photos. Every time a special occasion presented itself, I took my camera along and snapped as many pics as I could. I'm sure my shutterbug tendencies annoyed other people at times, but I'm so beyond thankful that we have that treasure trove of images now, since Logan can no longer be with us on special days.
I don't take as many pictures now for a variety of reasons, but I'm thankful for the ones I do get, even if they're imperfect like this one because this is us. And though Logan's absence means the photos are never truly complete, they're still very, very good.
In spite of the wavering emotion, it turned out to be a pretty good Thanksgiving. I got up, watched part of the Macy*s Thanksgiving Day parade (and then the National Dog Show) with the Little Boys, helped Adam make rolls, and pounded some figurative pavement on the treadmill before getting dressed and heading out with the fam for a walk around the neighborhood. Then --with Lambie in tow, of course-- we left at about 3 to head to Adam's Aunt Peg's house for dinner with the extended family. (Or part of it, anyway.) We had a pleasant meal and then spent some time chatting with people we love but don't get to see particularly often.
And then we came home. Right now, Abby is sitting next to me on the couch doing something on her laptop, and Adam is putting the Little Boys to bed. My inability to see Logan today makes my heart ache, but I cannot deny that I am blessed. And that's an important truth for me to stash away in my heart, right next to the ache.
I like routines and traditions, and one of our temporary "things" this fall has been going to In N Out after swimming lessons. We hit the drive thru, come home, and watch episodes of "Phineas and Ferb" while we eat.
It's just a simple thing, but it's one of our family activities, so it means a lot to me. There's nothing quite as awesome as spending mundane moments with your favorite people.
This is pretty much what the Little Boys did while we were waiting for our food: they hugged and made faces (and colored on their kids' menus, but that wasn't nearly as amusing as the affection-showing). I've said it before, but I love how they love each other, and I love how they're goofy with each other, too. Life is, after all, much more fun when we smile and deliberately seek out that which is good.
It was a lovely, crisp Fall Monday, and one of those days that featured the sun routinely hiding and then emerging from behind thick, fluffy clouds.
A lovely day indeed, and that's always a blessing.
My littlest man is usually a ball of energy and inquisitiveness, but when he doesn't feel well, he's a cuddly snuggle bug. Although I don't exactly relish the idea of my kiddos being sick, it's a blessing when all they want to do is lie against me and rest.
This afternoon, Abby and I had our usual Saturday window shopping expedition, and then this evening, she took her maiden voyage as a baby-sitter for the Little Boys while Adam and I went out to dinner. And just a few minutes ago, while sitting here on the couch and reflecting on all of this, I realized that 19 years ago today, Adam and I officially began dating. November 19 has fallen by the wayside, given the number of other important days we've established as a couple, but it was nice to inadvertently honor the anniversary.
So yes. Not a very eloquent entry from me today, but one that's absolutely brimming with gratitude for my blessings.
Although they didn't jump in them, per se, they did form a squat little line and run their feet through them at high speed. Crunch, rustle, crunch, rustle, giggle, giggle.
Though it's not my thing, it's fun to see them have fun.
I'm not exactly an extrovert --I tend to be partly extroverted, partly introverted-- but just sitting and talking with my friends can be such a filling experience for me. So today, I'm thankful that I had that chance to just sit and talk. And that the boys had a chance to run around and be crazy with some of their friends.
If I'm remembering correctly, it's the first time he's been able to come to an event at the kids' school during school hours, and it was definitely a big deal to Brady to have his dad there for the songs and the poems and, of course, the food.
It's such a blessing when a negative (like a summons) winds up turning into a big, unexpected positive.
My grandma was an incredibly important person to me when I was growing up. I stayed with her and my grandpa for a time when I was very young, and then we lived with them for a few years when I was in elementary school. I remember her staying with me when I was sick and sitting with her and grandpa while they watched "Wheel of Fortune" each evening and putting on plays for her with my brother. I remember putting her hair in curlers and joining her for walks 'round and 'round the circular portion of their driveway on summer evenings and sitting with her behind the table of the clothing department at the county fair.
And beyond all of that, I remember the powerful way that her faith guided both her words and her decisions. She and my mom are without doubt very different people, but they're also two of the strongest, most faithful women in my life, and I'm deeply thankful that God blessed me with both of them.
I don't even remember what she found so amusing, but I can hear the ringing sound of her giggles, and the memory alone makes me smile.
It doesn't happen nearly enough, but it always makes me smile when they laugh. And that does my heart multiple worlds' worth of good.
I sat in the back of the classroom and watched as these precious little people went through the script of that familiar, blessed story, and my heart absolutely jumped in my chest. It's been a while since our church has put on a Nativity play, and it's such a blessing to see our kids taking part in the telling of the story.
For one, she sits by herself at lunchtime at school and then does her homework. My inner 12-year old cringed at the idea, so I asked why she didn't just join a pre-existing group. Her response? I don't want to be someone's second or third choice, mom. That's so not me. I still don't really have the kind of confidence you need to just go it alone.
Another example? The dress she's wearing in this pic. She still loves My Little Pony, but I wasn't sure that she'd want to wear this outfit when I gave it to her. After all, she's in seventh grade, and I could easily substitute the 'junior' in 'junior high' with 'judgmental.'
I admire her so much for being herself regardless of what judgment she may face. It's a blessing to have her as an example for me.
But what I really want to talk about happened later on in the day. (I just didn't get a pic for what will become obvious reasons in a moment.) I went by the mall to pick up Abby's birthday pictures. On my way into JC Penney, a teenage boy stopped to hold the door for me. I feel like it doesn't happen all that often these days, so I smiled and said thank you. I walked through, and then saw a girl pushing a woman in a wheelchair coming the other way, so I stopped to hold the door for them. They too looked surprised, smiled, and said thank you, as did the two or three girls who followed behind. As I finally walked through, I glanced back and saw a man holding the door for yet another woman.
The message for today? Kindness. Pass it on. End of story.
This sight is more or less the same as it was last week. And last month. And 100 years ago. It may appear to change as the clouds come and go, but it's still there, even when we can't see much of anything.
The world changes over time, of course, but for me, it's a comfort to know that God remains the same.
He spent the last seven days --not just a mere week, but seven long days-- nagging me to buy him new swimming goggles. His old ones broke last week, and he wanted to be totally sure that I was aware of the situation. (I was. Very.) Anyhow, he was tickled pink and purple and all sorts of bright and giggly colors when I put the news ones on his head for the first time.
A happy response to something so very small: a blessing indeed. The world would be so much more amazing if we all got excited over new goggles.
Still, one truth remains, and Brady served as a visual reminder of that truth while he filled his lemonade cup at Costco tonight:
He found that cape this afternoon and asked me to fasten it around his neck. I didn't think much of it at the time, but there's a powerful message in it that I've seen repeated several times today: man-made kingdoms will come and go. Governments will rise and fall. Leaders will lead -- and fail to lead. But even amid the turmoil, God is --and will remain-- on His throne.
That's my girl over on the right, snapping a shot of the sunset using her phone, and it's not an isolated tendency for her; she stopped to take pictures of just about every flower we passed during our evening walk yesterday, too. I love that she takes the time to stop and smell the roses, and I hope she never gets so lost in the worries of this world that she forgets the beauty of what God has made for us to enjoy.
I was especially gratified to see grass growing amid the other little plants. I planted those grass seeds months ago, back when the ground was hard and dry and largely impenetrable. At first, I watered them faithfully, but months went by and nothing ever happened. Despite my best efforts, the conditions simply weren't right for them to sprout. Eventually, I stopped trying to force them to grow, though I was always conscious that they were there. But then today... grass. From the seeds I planted.
It reminded me of an important truth: we should never stop planting seeds of faith just because it seems that they're falling on soil that couldn't possibly yield life. Ultimately, it's God who causes those plants to grow, and not us.
I snapped it during the final leg of our Saturday afternoon window shopping excursion as we sat face-to-face at Starbucks, eating our bought-on-Halloween-clearance Count Chocula treat bars and chit chatting about recent everyday happenings.
I didn't set out to create a weekend shopping ritual with her; in fact, she used to dislike going out entirely. But I'm glad that we have these mundane yet completely priceless times together now.
Abby may have been solely responsible for the spill, but both of the Little Boys jumped in to help her out. They sacrificed some play time to do something they didn't have to do.
It's such a blessing to have friends who can --and will-- offer aid when we experience troubles in this life.
She's intelligent, thoughtful, generous, and kind. She's responsible and, in many ways, mature beyond her 12 years thanks to the loss that she's suffered and survived.
She amazes me with her wit every single day, and I'm more thankful than I can adequately express that God chose someone as ordinary as me to be her mother.
Happy birthday, Abby. I loaf you! (And I love you, too.)
While doing her homework, Abby was simultaneously animating BearBear (as she so often does -- that bear sings Luke Bryan like a boss) as the Little Boys flitted about the family room doing... something or other. At some point, she plunked him down next to me, and when I looked at him, I saw that he was giving me the side eye. So I snapped this selfie as I gave it back, and the act prompted giggles from the kiddos.
I love to hear them laugh. And I love that me being silly by recapturing a part of me that lies mostly dormant (for now) makes them happy. And I love the notion that eventually, my heart might heal enough that I can inspire them to smile more often.
I almost cried when I opened the box and found this beautiful pendant inside. What my friend didn't know is that I'd been meaning to order one of these for some time now, but hadn't been able to choose the perfect charms. She absolutely nailed it.
Thank you, M, for being such a huge blessing to me and for remembering my Sunshine in such a tangible way. You helped to make it a beautiful day!
