February 10

My ability to focus has suffered of late so bear with me as I meander (or maybe muddle is the better term) through this entry.

The kids didn't have school today so we did as we so often do on such days and went to brunch at Black Bear. When we were first seated, I noticed a little boy with his parents at the table across the way. Stray words from their conversation floated in and out of my consciousness until a few choice ones --seizures, can't figure out what's wrong, fourth child, exhausted, Children's Hospital-- caught my attention.

In that moment, I felt a soft nudge to talk to the mom and so, as they got up to leave, I too arose. I apologized for eavesdropping but told her that I understood how she must feel having to deal with a difficult health issue. I told her that I get the worries and the fears and the frustrations. And I told her that I'd been in her shoes once, and though I lost my own little boy --eight years ago tomorrow, in fact-- I would pray for her son and that they'd be able to get to the bottom of his issue. She released a breath and hugged me and said thank you and explained that every time her son --who happened to be named Isaac-- has a seizure, they have to drive from Sonora to Children's Hospital. I assured her that the neurology staff there is amazing and that if it comes down to it, Dr. Sun --Logan's surgeon-- is incredible. She looked relieved and thanked me again. And then she was off.

So this evening, I'm grateful to have had an opportunity to bring a little bit of comfort to another mom. It doesn't matter that I'll probably never see her again because in that moment, I was given the chance to connect with her and to share my experience. And hopefully, our interaction made a difference in her day. And for that, I'm thankful. (Oh, and the pic... thank you, dear Meg, for thinking of us. Such a lovely, lovely surprise.)