December 31

It's so hard to believe that yet another year has come and gone. Tomorrow will mark the beginning of the fifth (!) year of this little blog of mine. It started out as a means of coping with overwhelming grief by finding God in every single day. Though it's continued to do that over the years and will continue to serve that vital purpose in the future, it's also become something I hadn't intended it to be: a log of my blessings and a day by day, chapter by chapter rendering of our life as a family. A storybook. And I am so thankful to have this storybook to share with my kiddos.

With all of that weighty stuff said, I'll get on with today's thought. As we so often do, we took a walk this afternoon. It was chilly but clear out, and quite a lovely day for a stroll (or a bike ride, if you were one of our kids). I deliberately had us stop to take this photo during a pause on what we've come to call The Long Path:

God never promised that human life would be easy, but He promised to be present. And I can sense his presence with us every single day in an assortment of little ways: in the sun, the sky, the trees, the wind, the Cars with faces I trip over on the carpet, and most importantly to me, in the faces of these people.

And also in the love that I will always hold in my heart for my Logan, who is --as is often the case-- represented here by his dear Lambie, who I decided --at the last second-- to bring along for today's journey. Nope, life is not perfect. But it's good, I wish you all a blessed, God-wink filled 2017.

December 30

Brady is the only one of my kids who flatly refused to take dance classes: Logan took a year (and would absolutely have continued had he not gotten sick), Isaac had three years, and Abby is currently in her ninth. But Brady? Nope. Wasn't gonna happen. Period. End of story. Ironically, though, he's the biggest dancer in the house right now.

As the credits played after we watched Shrek 2 this evening, my little sassypants couldn't resist jumping to his feet and swerving his hips to the music. In fact, that tends to happen whenever he hears music with a good beat. He shakes and laughs and shakes some more. (And, as evidenced by this image, makes plenty of sassy faces.)

I love that he quietly likes to dance. And I love that whenever he gets up to shake his moneymaker, I have flashbacks of Logan doing the same. It's bittersweet, of course, and always will be, but it's such a blessing to see that part of him manifested in his littlest brother.

December 29

Earlier this week, Abby asked if we could have brunch at the Black Bear Diner, so that's what we did this morning.

I know I've been a bit repetitive this week, but I have to repeat myself again: it was really nice to travel en masse, and super nice just sit at the table, chat, and eat without worrying about cleaning up or doing the dishes.

December 28

It was another quiet day 'round these parts. I slept in, then mostly bummed around the house until Adam asked if we wanted to go for a walk. (We did. Some of us were happier about it than others, and I finally got to see Evel Knievel --aka Brady-- operating his scooter.) Then this evening, after we watched Shrek, the kiddos decided they wanted to dogpile.

So they did just that: they giggled and yelped and dogpiled in (and around) the easy chair in our family room for a good 10 miles.

Ah, togetherness: 'tis a sweet blessing.

December 27

Today, I visited the DMV to renew my license (the horror! But really, the appointment system is a stroke of genius. I was in and out in 10 minutes flat). Then we went to Costco to restock on essentials this afternoon, and after we got back home, I rested and Abby played on her computer while Adam took the Little Boys on a walk with their scooters. Later, we had dinner and watched a Narnia movie, and the boys played a game one of them received for Christmas.

It was a chill kind of day; nothing really exciting, nothing really notable, nothing remarkable. But it was a nice day nonetheless, and nice, unremarkable days when we just live and love in boring, everyday ways are blessings.

December 26

Just a few short years ago, Abby really disliked shopping. She disliked it so much that she'd ask me to buy clothes for her so she could try them on at home. Her desire to avoid all stores was strong, but times have changed considerably.

Today my little shopping buddy and I hit the shops for some day-after-Christmas shopping. We didn't buy a lot, but we had fun trekking from store to store.

As I told her while we drove to lunch afterward, I like hanging out together. I may have ended up with just one daughter, but she's a pretty terrific one to have.

December 25

All in all, it was a peaceful Christmas Day. We like to circle the wagons and keep our California Christmases just for our immediate family, so that's just what we did.

The Little Boys tried to start the day ultra early; I heard them playing at 1:30 AM and told them it was much too early to get up (which prompted a clearly only-partially-awake Isaac to muse 'gee, my watch must be really wrong!' as he trotted back to bed). We got started in earnest about five hours later with stockings before we paused for a quick breakfast of cinnamon buns and trees. (Trees are the traditional Wight family Christmas morning fare.) And then it was on to presents: video games and movies and lots of cat shaming for me.

The early afternoon hours saw us head to the cemetery to visit Logan's grave --thank you to whomever left the beautiful plant-- and then Abby and I bummed around the house while the boys went for a walk with their new scooters. We finished the day with pot roast, potatoes, carrots, rolls, and pumpkin pie and a viewing of the Angry Birds Movie.

It was a beautiful day, really. A lovely day to enjoy each other's company and to remember Jesus' blessed birth. And to be thankful --in the deepest way possible-- that His birth made renewed life a reality.

December 24

During our at-home years, Christmas Eve always includes a trip to Adam's parents' house to celebrate. There's a good meal and time to chat and gift-opening. And for the past several years, there's been an incarnation of this photo taken:

The kiddos had fun playing with their younger cousins and there were plenty of amusing moments as the afternoon progressed, from the trio of ugly Christmas sweaters Adam's mom gifted Adam, his dad, and his brother (which they immediately tried on, being the excellent sports they are) to my brand new Boston Red Sox tree ornament. (For the record, I greatly dislike the Red Sox, but Adam's mom inadvertently transposed the Red Sox and the Orioles (since they're "both teams back east"). I don't even care -- I know that I'll laugh every time I look at that ornament, and that's a very good thing).

Family is far from perfect, but it's a blessing anyway.

December 23

As time has passed, I've come to realize that parenting is paradoxical: some days, the kids absolutely make me feel exponentially older than the wall calendar says I am. But they also hold the power to make me feel considerably younger, too. There's quite a lot of ebb and flow.

But one thing doesn't ebb or flow: I love this kind of scene. Smiling, giggling, having a good time, hanging out. I so want them to be great friends, and those times when that happens --like it did at Adam's cousin Amanda's baby shower this evening-- are true blessings.

December 22

You know how once or twice in a blue moon, you meet a new person and feel an almost immediate sense of camaraderie? That's how it was for me when I met Kathy earlier this year. Our launching point was a shared baseball team (Isaac and her son played together in the spring), and from there, we learned that our kids had attended the same preschool. In fact, as it happened, I'd heard of her and she'd heard of me, but neither of us connected the dots particularly expeditiously. I've come to know her as a really lovely person, and I know I can be real with her without fear of judgment.

Anyhow, we had coffee earlier this week as we occasionally do. After she left, I wished I'd had the chance to expand on an observation I'd made. I considered texting her the rest of my thoughts, but couldn't find a way to make it make sense in writing. So I let the subject lie, but not without an ounce of regret resting atop my heart.

Fast forward to this morning. After Brady's (adorable) kindergarten sing-a-long at school, I headed over to Starbucks and plunked down at a vacant table with my cuppa joe. When I looked up from my phone after a few minutes, I was genuinely surprised to see her standing in line. So already long story short, I called her over and finished the thought I'd so wanted to finish.

I absolutely love it when God provides these little "chance" encounters just when we need (or sometimes, merely want) them. And I am so very thankful for Kathy and for all of the friends who have stuck with me in spite of my circumstances and, in some cases and at some times, in spite of me being me.

December 21

Isaac's class holiday party was this afternoon, and I was one of the parent volunteers. I oversaw the card creation table, but they also made gift bags, played Jingo (jingle bingo, get it? I didn't), and decorated cookies. It was exactly what I expect a third grade party to be: fun and cacophonous.

Good teachers --the ones who really dedicate themselves to making sure their students are happy and learning and living up to their potential-- are such a huge blessing. So today, I'm thankful for all of the great educators my kids have been blessed to know.

December 20

It was a nice day: coffee with a friend, then a doctor's appointment for Brady (which ended with the welcome revelation that we can wait on having his tonsils removed... for now), then a quick child-requested stop at Target, where I found a hard-to-find item for which another friend had been looking. (Remember the guy who gifted me the Hot Wheels Corvette? I found a car he hadn't been able to find but wanted. I love being able to offer up happy surprises, so I was pretty pleased to find it.) Then this evening, we drove around town to look at Christmas lights.

Although it was chilly out, we got out of the car to wander around one of the more impressive displays. In addition to an impressive front yard, these particular people fill their backyard with the most incredible menagerie of lights, light-up animals, animated creatures, dolls, you name it, they have it. It was fun to walk along with our family, but especially with Brady, who oohed and aahed --literally-- over the bears and penguins and, well, pretty much all of it. More than once, I heard him draw in a sharp breath as he took in the brightly colored scenes, and more than once, it reminded me of his biggest brother's awestruck reaction to Santa so many years ago.

The unbridled, unashamed, refreshingly self unaware wonder of a child is an amazing gift.

December 19

There was actual ice on my windshield this morning when I went outside to take the kids to school. I know that's no big thing for some of you, but to us thin-blooded Californians, it's an unwelcome weather oddity. I don't own an ice scraper, but thanks to a spur-of-the-moment flash of genius by Abby, I was able to clear off the glass with Legos, and then we were off. (Yep, Legos. Worked like a charm.)

Anyhow, suffice it to say that it was cold, and it stayed cold outside all day long, so my heavy coat ventured from its hanger in the closet for the first time this season.

As I went about my day and wasn't cold, this wussy transported Marylander felt a profound sense of gratitude for this coat and for the warmth it provides. It's a simple thing that's a very big blessing.

December 18

This morning, the kids took part in our church's first Nativity play in quite a few years. Abby was Mary, Isaac was the third innkeeper and a scripture reader, and Brady was a shepherd. Lambie also made an appearance as a sheep. A friend suggested that Brady carry him, and oh, what it did to my heart to see him up there representing Logan. As the youngsters like to say, it brought all the feels (and then some). And in a decidedly bittersweet but overwhelmingly good way.

They all did a great job. There were moments of audience laughter, like when Abby and her Joseph, who stands more than a foot shorter than she, "rode" their donkey into Bethlehem, and when the little sheep plunked himself down during a carol and proceeded to pick his nose for a good 30 seconds.

But it was beautiful, too, because it's a truly beautiful thing to see children uniting to re-enact the story of Jesus' birth. These sweet little ones showed up, learned their lines, and with an innocence that fades after childhood draws to a close, helped to share the Gospel in a way that adults simply cannot. And for that blessing, I'm thankful.

December 17

I blinked and bam, it's already mid-December. What?! So today we engaged in some fun Christmas traditions: decorating gingerbread cookies, and driving around to look at Christmas lights.

It was fun to watch them express their creativity with sprinkles and cinnamon candies. And then this evening, it was fun to ride around together, oohing and aahing over the ornate light displays. But our favorite display of all was new to us: the live Nativity at a church in the next town over. It took quite a while to get in, but the production was lovely. And absolutely a nice way to bring the real Reason for the Season to the forefront of my heart.

December 16

I have two different things to comment on for today. One has a photo representation, one does not.

Item one: Adam worked from home today and texted me while I was out to ask if I wanted to go to lunch. So we did just that. We had a lovely chat over some tasty pizza.

The second item came to mind a few hours later. As I crossed the playground at the elementary school to pick up Isaac from school, a boy called out 'hi Isaac's mom!' and we had a quick conversation about baseball. It was just a brief and largely mundane chat, but in the moment, I was struck by how blessed I am that so many of the kids at the school recognize me. It means I'm present. And that's a very good thing.

December 15

I have a lot of disconnected thoughts percolating in my little brain right now, but I haven't been able to put them into any kind of comprehensible order, so I'll keep it simple. Abby did her Christmas routine for musical theater tonight, and afterward, we got to see her class's recital costume. (It's music from "Hairspray," so I'm thinking it'll be really cute.)

I so love watching her enjoy herself, especially on a day like today when it felt like the world was primed to boil over with frustration and discontent.

December 14

Six years ago this morning, I gave birth to my fourth child. My baby, my little muffin, my Brady. The one who, while in my womb, traveled to and from and to and from and to and from the hospital where his biggest brother underwent treatment. The one who, in some ways, saved me more than once. The one who makes me laugh with his hip-swerving ("because 'swerve' is a cool word, mom!") and makes my heart swell with pride when he's preternaturally kind or polite. This guy.

He celebrated his big number six at kindergarten with his friends; it happened to be Pajama and Polar Express Day, so he even got to put on a brand new pair of Paw Patrol PJs and sip hot cocoa during class, in addition to conducting a rendition of the silly birthday song, leading the Days of the Week Song, and sharing some photos of his siblings.

After pick-up, we had lunch at home, picked up Abby and Isaac, and headed off to take birthday photos. And then it was off again, this time to swimming class, before we headed home for good to have dinner (In N Out), presents, and cake.

A full day. A busy day. But a blessed day. Happy birthday, Brady. I love you more than I can possibly express with mere words.

December 13

I don't want to say that the last five years have hardened my heart. Maybe they have, a bit, or maybe I've just learned to shut off my emotions when they're inconvenient in order to keep moving forward. But regardless of the reality and the reasons, I completely lost my crap while watching the season finale of The Voice tonight.

I was only peripherally paying attention when Kelly Clarkson and Billy Gilman began singing 'It's Quiet Uptown' from Hamilton. But for reasons beyond my understanding, it drew me in, and as I listened to the vocals and the rise and fall of the instrumentals, it felt painfully familiar. So I looked up the song's meaning and as it continued playing in the background, its inexplicable appeal came into focus: it's about struggling to cope with the "unimaginable" grief of losing a son. And it does such a beautiful job of putting that pain into words --and, honestly, into a mess of largely disconnected thoughts and phrases-- that it spoke to me. Because that's what it's like: it's disconnected and inconsistent and lonely and too quiet and too loud all at once. But somehow, this particular song transforms the cacophony into something beautifully lyrical.

Although it was something of a painful experience, it's always a blessing to feel like someone else understands.

December 12

This is part of our mantel right now:

I haven't historically been big on doing much in the way of seasonal decorations, but it felt right adding these bits and pieces, especially when I just happened to come across the black and white photo of all four kids from back in 2010. It was probably Christmas Eve, which made Brady just 10 days old, and I absolutely love how happy they all look.

I may have had my hands beyond full with a newborn, a four-year old cancer patient, a two-year old, and a six-year old, but I truly had it all. And though I miss that sweet child every single day, I'm blessed that we had that time together. And more blessed that we'll be together again, some day.

December 11

At church this morning, we did as we've done for a few weeks now and watched a video explaining the lighting of the day's Advent candle. Since the video featured just scripture printed on the screen, Brady --who can't read-- had no idea what was going on. And then Isaac stepped in.

My heart swelled as I watched the Bigger Brother dutifully read his Little Brother the words as they appeared on the screen. He missed a few here and there, but gave Brady enough to understand.

He didn't do it because someone told him to; goodness knows, it would've been just as easy for Adam or I to lean over and do the translation. He did it because he's been blessed with both maturity beyond his eight years and a kind heart. And for those things, I'm thankful.

December 10

Some evenings, after the kids have gone to bed, I'll find Adam just lying in front of the Christmas tree, looking up at the lights.

We have the kind that alternate between white and colored, and I have to admit that there's something soothing about watching them gradually change from one to the other and then back again. It's kind of like pressing a reset button. And some days, pushing that button and sitting and deliberately remembering the handful of Christmases that I shared with that boy there in the picture is just what I need to do.

December 9

Adam was in Germany this week, so I was doing the whole solo-parenting thing. Fortunately, he got back this afternoon so we're all under the same roof again. But he had an extremely unlikely and fortuitous encounter at the Frankfurt airport before he got on the plane to head home.

He was en route to buying some snacks for his flight when he heard someone call his name. When he turned around, he saw a blonde woman looking right at him. He knew she looked familiar, but he hadn't gotten much sleep and couldn't immediately place the face. As it turns out, she was one of Logan's nurses at CHO, and she still thinks about him and us and asked how we've been.

He said he didn't really thank her for saying hi, so Jeni, if you're reading this, you have our gratitude because that chance encounter --seriously, at the airport in Germany?!-- meant so, so much to him. Given how difficult special seasons can be for us, it was such a blessing for him to come into contact with someone from the past who remembers our Sunshine.

(PS -- The second virtual miracle? He texted me the entire exchange at midnight and despite the string of dings that my phone must've emitted, I didn't wake up! For a light sleeper like me, that's an incredible thing indeed.)

December 8

It's been a long week, and I'm thankful that it's almost over! With the Little Boys (trying to sneak down the stairs every few minutes but still) "in bed", I'm chilling with my girl and a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie on TV.

The Cars blanket that makes me think of Logan, banter with Abby, and a seasonal flick on the tube. A nice evening, I think.

December 7

I love watching my kiddos take care of one another.

After swimming tonight, Brady struggled to rinse the shampoo out of his hair. Since I'm the unofficial towel, shirt, pants, and goggle holder (and I'm generally not interested in getting wet when I'm wearing clothes), there wasn't a lot I could do to help, but I was totally heartened when Abby stepped in to help him. I didn't have to say a word: she just did it.

It's a blessing to realize that in spite of my many failings as a parent, my kids are growing up to be genuinely kind people.

December 6

Today brimmed with blessings. I found something special while shopping that I never thought I'd find (and it was the kind of thing I could see Logan leaving out for me so that made it a double blessing), a random article I wrote last night generated a much larger paycheck than I'd ever imagined it would, and the kiddos were, for the most part, well-behaved. The day felt happy. Harmonious. And it even ended like this, with Abby willingly reading the Little Boys a story:

It's alarmingly easy to accept a bounty of blessings without acknowledging that God is the source of ALL good things, even the seemingly trivial ones. Gratitude is, after all, a must in this lifetime, but so very often, we chalk successes up to nothing more than dumb "good luck." And that's just wrong. So today, I'm deeply --and deliberately-- thankful for every single amazing blessing that God sent my way.

December 5

Three or four years ago, I bought a cinnamon sugared doughnut candle at Bath and Body Works. I remember expecting it to smell nice --because otherwise buying it would've been a serious what? moment, given how much they cost-- but it blew me away because it smelled just like a warm doughnut. After it was gone, I tried to buy another, but they were out of stock, and continued to be unavailable for some time. But then I found this one at the mall on Saturday:

It doesn't smell exactly the same as that first one did, but it's still a nice scent to enjoy on a chilly almost-winter evening. So today, I'm grateful for that very small indulgence that makes my house smell delicious.

December 4

The kids were especially energetic during our Sunday afternoon walk. They took turns operating a Finn McMissile remote control car on what we call The Long Path, and soon after, the hug-walking began.

It started with the three of them aggressively and loudly hugging one another as they strolled along. Adam and I were a few paces ahead at first, but they gained on us quickly, and after less than a minute, we too were sucked into their giggling, fumbling, tripping mass of madness.

They were perhaps a bit too loud and a bit too crazy, but they were letting loose, having fun, and enjoying being together. And if you ask me, those are all very good things.

December 3

Adam and I went out to dinner tonight.

Life is so busy that it's a blessing to be able to take some time to just sit and be with each other. Tonight, it happened over a basket of tortilla chips and some enchiladas. We haven't been able to get out particularly often in recent times (and by "recent," I mean "the last 12 years") but I think it makes us better parents --and better people-- when we make the time.

December 2

My friend V held her second (in what I'm sincerely hoping will become an) annual (hint, hint!) cookie exchange party tonight. It was an evening marked by her amazing appetizer spread and awesome conversation with this group of my fellow moms.

I know that the idea of a party with lots of chatter is unappealing to some people, but spending time with these terrific ladies fills me up. It's such a blessing to be able to sit and talk and unwind, and it's an even bigger blessing to realize that our individual stories and struggles and victories are all threads in the much larger, much longer story of life here in the valley. It feels immeasurably good to share a sense of connection with others, and I'm so thankful for the blessing of friendship.

December 1

And... December. Another chapter's been recorded and another year is primed to close. And I'm constantly conscious that my pages lack the sparkle they would've had had things gone differently for Logan. But I came upon an unexpected reminder of him this morning that made me smile.

By now, you all know that I collect little die-cast Corvettes and cars with flame jobs because they were my Sunshine's favorites. I mean, he loved all cars, but he had a special place in his heart for cars of that ilk. Anyhow, I went into the room Isaac shared with Logan this morning to help him pick out his clothes for the day (since eight-year old logic says that short sleeves are still perfectly acceptable when it's 40 degrees out). I was surprised when I looked down and spotted these two Vettes just laying on the floor. I asked Isaac where they'd come from and he shrugged.

I'm pretty sure I bought them back in 2012 when I first started my collection, but I have no idea where they've been since then. I thought I'd gathered them all up when I decided to do some organizing earlier this year, but I guess I missed these two.

It's funny how oversights can turn into such blessings.