November 28

We went to Chick-fil-A for dinner tonight. A new one opened here in town a few weeks ago, and we figured today would be a good day to check it out. I expected some really excellent chicken and waffle fries (which I definitely had), but I didn't expect such an ordinary experience to jog a strong memory.

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.