December 15

I picked Abby up from the airport this morning so all of our chicks who can be physically present are back in the nest. And that's a huge blessing. I'm looking forward to spending time with them and watching them interact and eating with them and seeing their faces as they open their Christmas presents. Those are all such wonderful things and I'm already treasuring the new memories we haven't yet made. I am. Because that togetherness is one of the biggest gifts God gave us.

But truthfully, I also feel a bit melancholic because I can't say that all of my chicks are back in the nest. Whenever I see someone write share that sentiment, I feel a dull pain in my chest. Is it envy? Frustration? Or just sadness? I'm not sure. Maybe it's all three. Regardless of the rationale, it is. And in the interest of being authentic, I have to own it.

Missing someone is painful, and I feel Logan's  absence rather acutely this time of year. And I have to give myself space and permission to feel the way I do because his existence mattered. And it still does matter, even though he hasn't been in family pictures like this one for nearly 12 years. And that's so, so hard.

But tonight, as I drift toward sleep, I feel a sense of gratitude for the three chicks who are under my roof. And I remember the one who is safely tucked under the shadow of Jesus' wing (or, probably more accurately, dancing around in Heaven like a banshee). I am thankful for all of them and for how they've all added innumerable blessings to my life. And I'm grateful for the memories of what once was and for the promise of what will be some day.