May 8

We took the requisite "nice pictures" for Mother's Day this morning following church, but after perusing them all, I think I like this no-makeup, still-in-pajamas, everyone-on-the-bed one the best. If nothing else, it's the realest. And mid-40s me so loves and values authenticity.

Anyway, it was a gentle Mother's Day. There was the aforementioned church service and then the usual quick trip to the cemetery, where I knelt down by Logan's grave and took a few moments to run my finger along the curves of his printed name. Then Adam made me a pair of mimosas and I took a long, luxurious nap before dinner from CPK and a rousing game of Scrabble in the dining room. 

Part of me felt lazy for not doing more; for not wanting to go for a hike or enjoy a fancy brunch. Younger me always felt pressured to make the day special, unusual, exciting, unique. But truthfully, today I wanted to do just what I did: rest and spend time with my people. 

So I am content, and I am thankful that the sense of wistfulness I feel over Logan's absence from this picture is rooted more in longing for what will again be someday than pain over what's been lost. And I can assure you that that is no small miracle.