February 29

This is Isaac getting ready to play right field during the JV game at Liberty High School this afternoon. Although it was great to see him out there (and especially great to see him make a terrific running catch), this entry is only tangentially related to the picture.

I'll back up a bit. If you'd asked me yesterday if today's game would happen, I would've replied with a definitive no. There was quite a lot of rain in the forecast and it seemed an unlikely outcome.

But it was clear this morning and the rain was scheduled to roll in later than initially anticipated, so off Isaac and I went to Brentwood at 1:30 this afternoon. It wasn't exactly a sunny day, but it was a pleasant enough drive along the freeway and then through the rolling hills between Livermore and Brentwood. I'm not a huge fan of driving that route because Vasco Road features sweeping (and distracting) views of cow-dotted countryside and  massive windmills. And despite the many rises and falls in the road, the majority of people who use it think 80 miles per hour is always an acceptable speed.

The trip back home, however, was crafted of the stuff of my nightmares: I had to navigate that road I dislike so much in virtual darkness and the kind of heavy rain that launches my windshield wipers into hyperdrive. As I white-knuckled my way along, I asked God to keep me moving in the right direction. (And to make everyone slow down, for pete's sake.) 

And He did just that. As I rolled into the garage and parked, I sighed and thanked Him for riding with us and getting us home safely. So tonight I'm thankful that we have a God who is with us when we weather both metaphorical and physical storms.

February 28

I didn't sleep well last night so I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, as they say. Then I asked Isaac to take a shower and get dressed so we could leave by a specific time, and he dragged his feet, which I knew meant I'd be stuck in the sticky morning school traffic. So I got mad.

Even as I drove along lecturing him for not listening to me, I felt badly about it because he's a reflective kid and thinks deeply and I worried that he might be silently berating himself. And indeed, he didn't argue with me or make excuses. He just looked out the window.

After a few moments, while stopped at a red light, I took and released a breath, turned to look at him, and as I held his gaze I told him that I loved him and that I was sorry for yelling. He was quiet for a moment and then replied that it was okay because he gets grumpy when he doesn't sleep well, too. 

And that was that. Grace given. Tension broken.

I took this photo of him this evening while we were watching the end of Brady's practice. He'd climbed atop that rather tall box and was laughing at something that tickled his fancy. I thought he looked so wonderful and free in that moment, and as I thought back on his words from this morning, I wasn't surprised. Because grace is a power-packed, freedom-granting blessing, and I'm blessed that my kiddo knows how to give it.

February 27

After Isaac's game this evening (which the Dons won, woohoo!), the boys went to Youth Group and Adam and I went to dinner at one of our usual haunts downtown.

It was, as it virtually always is, a pleasant experience full of good conversation with my hunny and good food for my tummy. And I felt good, because I wore a scarf I made last year for the first time and I put on actual make-up, which rarely happens these days.

And to make it all extra-extra nice, our server was happy to see us -- we often have the same server at this particular restaurant, and she approached with a smile and asked if we wanted our usuals, which she then rattled off with ease. 

Those moments when we're made to feel known and appreciated just for being ourselves are blessings. (As our nights out with loved ones.)

February 26

Isaac was in a good mood when I picked him up from practice this afternoon.

He followed me around the house sharing the storyline of the video game he recently started playing and then went outside to the hammock, where he sat rocking while reading something on his phone.

When I went out to check on him, I stopped and marveled at the loveliness of our yard. So today I'm grateful for our set-up and how enjoyable it truly is and for my sweet kiddo's positivity. 

February 25

I was walking by the dining room this afternoon and noticed the boys sitting side by side at the table.

They each had their laptops open but they were engaged in separate gaming experiences. Parallel Play, I thought with a smile. Different games but still together.

I love them and I love how they enjoy being with one another, even when they're not actually interacting. The ability to peacefully share space is a blessing.

February 24

During this morning's prayer shawl ministry gathering, one of the ladies pulled a very large, badly knotted ball of yarn from her bag. After a few minutes passed by, the woman to her left quietly began untangling one section.

A few minutes after that (and over the protestations of the unnamed owner of the snarled skein) the woman across the table put down her own work and began to work on another section of tangle.

And then a little later, after observing the collaborative effort that was happening just to my right, I too put down my own piece and joined in on the effort.

There was much laughing as we slowly but diligently worked to loosen the knots and smooth out the strands. Shortly before we successfully completed our mission, I offhandedly joked that it was like a metaphor for life.

And indeed it is: Life is filled with many challenges, but when we allow others to help us through those tough times, we all benefit from the experience. The one with the trouble gets needed assistance, and the rest of us get the gift of helping.

February 23

Isaac played his first JV baseball game today, and the Dons came away with a 6-4 win. 

He spent the entire game in right field on defense and batted three times, posting a groundout, a walk, and a sacrifice swinging bunt (of sorts. The important part was that he got the job done by advancing the runner to third).

But best of all, he was in a really positive, cheerful mood afterward. We went to a pizza get-together with one of Brady's teams immediately after the game and he was almost giddy as he munched his pizza and tried on my glasses and took selfies using my phone. And as an extra unexpected bonus, we ran into his old longtime coach Brian and his son Eli on our way out the door.

So for all of that -- for a new start to a new season and for the nod to the past in the form of running into Brian, I am so thankful. Because I so love seeing my sweet Isaac --who is so often so hard on himself-- feeling content.

February 22

Isaac has his first JV baseball game tomorrow afternoon.

And because I have the memory of a goldfish, I completely forgot that he needed white pants with purple piping as part of his uniform.

Since it's virtually impossible to find white baseball pants with purple piping in stores --especially when said-pants are Isaac's preferred knicker style-- I bought bias tape in purple from Walmart and a pair of plain white pants from Big 5 Sports and hoped to cobble together something presentable.

After a failed attempt to attach the tape myself, I appealed to my amazing neighbor Mary for help. And she came through big time. I took the supplies across the street and she sewed the piping on for me, even though she's swamped with work and in the middle of painting the entire interior of her house.

Good neighbors who go above and beyond to help are amazing blessings, and I am so very fortunate to have one just across the street.

February 21

This is my view each morning as I drive down the hill to take the boys to school.

It's not an awesome representation because the actual scene is so wide and sweeping that I can't fit it all in a single shot, but you get the idea.

I love the sky and the clouds and the hills in the distance. It's striking and overwhelming in its magnitude. And it's a beautiful glimpse at some of God's impressive handiwork that I get to take in every day. So for that, I am grateful.

February 20

I was at Walgreens this morning to pick up a few prescriptions when I decided to swing through the candy aisle to take a gander at the Valentine's Day candy on clearance. (I do so love clearance candy.)

I was surprised and really pleased to find these-- Brachs Large Conversation Hearts-- so I bought several bags. They're usually really hard to find and I'd only previously seen them at a single store this year; some years, I haven't found any at all.

I've historically called them 'chalk hearts' because of their questionable (to me) texture, but they're one of Adam's favorites so I was happy to scoop them up, take them home, and ceremoniously unload them on his desk. 

Anyway, I love gifting people things I know they will like and appreciate, so this unexpected find was a blessing to me.

February 19

I lost my cro-jo for a while there but it's gradually returned over the past few days.

In addition to a few different lap blankets (to help bolster the prayer shawl ministry's supply), I've been working on a little something for myself. This is the beginning phase of what's a fairly simple project comprised of simple stitch patterns, but hopefully it'll hold my attention long enough for me to actually finish it.

So today I'm grateful for the return of a lost passion, because those passions make life much more interesting.

February 18

It's supposed to rain tomorrow so Adam and the brositos took their annual President's Day hike along the ridge this afternoon. It's one of their guy-bonding activities and Isaac was especially keen to go, particularly since Adam's fractured ankle kept prevented the outing last year.

I didn't go (not a dude and all) but Adam sent a few photos of the excursion, including this one of Isaac. They're all nice images (including the ones of some very territorial cows), but this one in particular struck me. 

Isaac is a very sensitive person and a very deep thinker, and this image represents those aspects of his personality very well.

I'm thankful that he had the chance to spend some time with Brady and Adam and that he had the opportunity to just sit in nature like this. I think moments like this are good for all of God's creation.

February 17

It was a quiet Saturday at the Wight house. 

Since it rained on and off throughout the day, Isaac and Brady didn't burn off quite as much energy as they might have on a sunny day. So things got a little... weird.

And one of the weird happenings was Brady trying to give Isaac (who has 40 pounds and about seven inches on him) a piggyback ride. He managed to hike him up onto his back, but he was pretty much frozen in place. It was, as I've already noted, weird. But it was also funny. And I am thankful for the blessing of humor.

February 16

Isaac and Brady had their annual check-ups this morning, so after a brief stop by the Mother Ship, we headed off to the doctor's office.

The visit went just fine; they're both growing and healthy (save an asthma diagnosis for my little allergy sufferer Brady, but I guess that wasn't a huge surprise since I've heard him wheeze).

After the appointments were over and we walked to the waiting room so I could check out, I happened to turn around and was greatly amused to find them standing in exactly the same position: backpacks on, sweatshirts across their shoulders, both hands in their pants pockets. 

They seemed completely unaware that they were twinning so I fumbled for my phone so I could capture the moment before they were able to move.

I love these guys so much and I'm so thankful that I get to be their mom. And I'm grateful for the inadvertently funny moments, too.

February 15

We learned long ago that going out on the actual holiday was a no-go for us; far too many people do that for our shared non-crowd-loving sensibilities. So Adam and I enjoyed our Valentine's Day dinner downtown tonight at Haps.

The food was delicious, the company excellent, and the conversation meaningful.

And the whole experience made me think: A connection established over a long period of time with a partner is so unique and special. There's comfort in silence and words can be exchanged effectively even when no one speaks at all.

It's beautiful, really. And I am grateful for it.

February 14

Valentine's Day has changed for me a lot over the years. When I was a kid, there were classroom parties with cookie decorating and cute little Valentine cards. When I was a teenager, there were unspoken but fervent hopes of receiving candy grams at school. When my kiddos were young, there were carefully curated matching outfits and photos so I could capture the early moments in all of its faux-pristine glory.

And now, well, now it's more a freeform holiday. I mailed Abby her Valentine package last week. The boys have aged out of the school parties (although per Brady, the candy grams are still a thing) and I gave them their treats --cotton candy and a box of chocolates for both, a mini teddy bear for Brady and a box of cookies for Isaac, who prefers consumables these days-- before they headed off to class. And I presented Adam with his treats over the course of the day, ending with an orange Jamba Juice around lunchtime.

And for me? For me there were white roses and four boxes of candy from my hunny. 

It may be a Hallmark holiday that a lot of people don't like so much, but I still think Valentine's Day is a good thing. Any day that facilitates the open expression of love and affection is a good thing and a blessing.

February 13

Isaac found my big Care Bear this afternoon when he got home from tryouts. (It wasn't exactly hard to find; I'd left it in my seat in the family room.)

I could hear him talking to it before I even got into the room --well hello, who are you?-- and then he scooped it up like a baby and carried it to a different seat.

He's a sweet kiddo and a gentle soul, this boy of mine, and his affinity for stuffies makes me smile.

February 12

The boys didn't have school today, but they both had baseball: Isaac in the late morning/early afternoon, and Brady in the late afternoon.

Being there in the parking lot at the Sports Park watching Brady as he and his teammates executed drills and swung their bats was a sweetly nostalgic experience. 

I know I'll get my fill of baseball action as the season progresses (and that some days, it will feel like a LOT), but I'm grateful to once again have the opportunity to see my boys play and interact with other kiddos.

February 11

Twelve years ago today my first-born son, my sweetheart, my Sunshine, my only daughter's forever best friend passed through the gates of Heaven. And I've missed my Cars loving, tow-headed little Logan every day since.

We quietly commemorated the anniversary, first by watching church online (since it's not really a day that we prefer to spend with other people) and afterward, with a trip to his gravesite. I added a new mini Doc Hudson to the lineup that rests on his stone, and sighed over memories of the endless parking lots he liked to create on the couch in the family room.

We video chatted with Abby, and then Adam and I donated blood at the Red Cross. And then we went by Costco to pick up some pizza for dinner, since that particular brand of cheesy, tomatoey pie was a Logan-approved favorite. It's always nice to remember him by indulging in his favorite foods.

And now Adam is reading to Isaac and Brady and I'm sitting alone, just reflecting. It's been a brutal week. I feel at ease with my grandma's passing; she was, after all, 101 years old and more than ready to meet Jesus. I adored her, but the pages of her life's book were filled to even the margins with stories of love and a life well-lived.

But coming to terms with Logan's death even 12 years after he left us is still a challenge. I accept that it will never make sense to me, and part of me will always wonder why God saves some children but not mine, especially when I'm so sure he could've been such a force for good... for God... in this world. But, as I so often say when I can't think of anything to make it seem okay, it is what it is. And in spite of our reality, I still believe that God is good. And I'm so very grateful for the ways that knowing and loving Logan changed me into a better version of me. Because I am not who I was.

So today I remember that energetic little boy, my second child, the one who --after Abby displayed a distinct preference for her daddy-- was dubbed mommy's baby. And I smile at the memories. And, thanks to the cross, I look forward to seeing him again.

February 10

I did even less today than I did yesterday. Today it was literally all about watching Columbo and playing Monopoly Go while huddled in my chair, under my foofy blanket.

It's possible that I should be embarrassed by that admission, but I think that sometimes we do need those times of rest. So maybe it's okay. I don't know.

But I do know that the most active time of my day was dinner, when I caught up on the day's happenings with all of my menfolk. 

One of these goofballs worked on his online driver's ed course and played video games, while the other had four hours of baseball practice (since both teams had practices on the schedule this morning) and then played video games. And then after dinner, they decided to arm wrestle.

That's them! So today, I'm thankful for rest and for these guys.

February 9

I didn't do much today: just took Isaac to school (Brady was feeling under the weather so he stayed home), visited the Mother Ship, picked up some new baseball pants, circled Target for funsies, and went back home until it was time to retrieve Isaac. 

And while I was home, all I did was huddle under my sherpa throw while watching episodes of Columbo on Peacock. I do love Lieutenant Columbo and his antics.

And in hindsight, I think it was the kind of low-key day I needed to have.

So I am grateful for the absence of activity and eventfulness.

February 8

My grandma passed away this morning back in Maryland. She was --like her mother before her-- a ripe, sturdy 101 years old. And if you'd asked her any day of the week, she would've told you --without an iota of hesitation-- that she was 101 percent ready to meet Jesus.

Anyway, my mom called me before my alarm clock went off to share the news that grandma had passed peacefully at around 2:30 AM Eastern. It wasn't a surprise, since I knew that she'd gone into the hospital with double pneumonia on Sunday and centenarians who are more than ready to see Jesus don't typically survive bouts with pneumonia. I thanked mom and hung up and laid still for a few moments to take a tentative dip in the pool of remembrance and realization, but after deciding that the "pool" was really more of an ocean of indeterminate depth, I got up quickly so as to avoid falling in before I could really commit to feeling the feels.

I still haven't really let the waves wash over me, but there are so many reflections and memories and truths coming from so many years of love and life that they're starting to leak out, one by one by one. I have hundreds of stories of my grandma and who she was and how she impacted me and my family and other people in her immediate community and around the world. 

She was, to be succinct, one entirely unassuming woman who chose to live an incredibly faithful life. 

Just to sample... I stayed with her and my grandpa for a time when I was very young, and during that time I discovered I could "help" her mix her skim milk by "accidentally" dropping the spoon into the pitcher. (That became our schtick for a long time to come, and even decades later she still talked about how she'd hear my little feet come running when she opened the cupboard door to get the powdered milk.) After my parents separated and we moved in with them, she took us to appointments and was home when we left for school and when we got back. She listened to --and even encouraged-- the little stage shows my brother Charlie and I would put together and perform. She gave me saltines with jelly and cottage cheese with pineapple and let me watch "The Price is Right" and "I Love Lucy" on sick days. I walked with her around the circular driveway that fronted the house when the sun shone and in the large finished basement on rainy days. I was there and helped as she and my mom chaired the Clothing Department in the Home Arts Building at the County Fair each August. And I watched as she made hundreds --maybe even thousands-- of little stuffed animals for siblings of new babies born at Shady Grove Hospital to give to their families' new arrivals.

I always knew she was a woman of faith, but as I got older, I realized that she truly prayed incessantly and enjoyed a real, personal relationship with Jesus. After I became a mother, she consistently reminded me to tell the children that Great-Grandmother Connie loved them. And she did, just like she loved me. She gave love freely and well. And she was never stuffy or dull; she was funny and quirky. She had a wicked sense of humor that often caught me completely off guard, like the time she and Abby and I were watching TV in her family room and she suddenly turned to us, cackled, and exclaimed --as she shimmied her shoulders-- "Heeheehee, I'm not wearing a bra!" She enjoyed keeping up with "The Bachelor" franchise because she wanted to see what stunts those "nutty women" would pull each week. And those Hallmark movies, how she loved them, too. I sat and watched more than a few of them with her during the wonderful Christmases my family spent at her house.

There's so much more I could share; so many little details of what she did and who she was that I never want to forget. Although I will miss her, I know where she is. I know she's with my grandpa and my sweet Logan. I know that her body is no longer failing her and that there's no more pain and I'm thankful for that. And I'm thankful for all that she taught me, both via instruction and via example, because those lessons could fill volumes. 

Yes, she lived a beautiful life. And I am so grateful that I had her here as my grandma for 46 years.

February 7

After dinner tonight, I was standing by the sink in the kitchen when Brady exclaimed "get Mom!"

So he and Isaac grabbed me. I happened to have my phone in my hand so I snapped a pic in the midst of the moment.

I am definitely challenged by these goofy boys of mine, but I'm also blessed by them every day. And I am grateful for the vibrant color they add to my life.

February 6

I've been eggshell'ing it around Isaac of late. He's been under the weather, stressed out, and unusually short-tempered.

But when I picked him up after school today, he was in a far better frame of mind. He was more talkative than he has been, shared about his day without moaning and groaning, and just generally his vintage Isaac self.

So for the improved mood and for the return of that sweet smile I love that's been largely absent of late, I am thankful.

February 5

I went out in the backyard this afternoon to survey the damage from the weekend's wind and rain storm.

And fortunately, there wasn't much, aside from a lot (lot) of debris in the pool and overturned patio furniture, which I righted. 

Even better, I was relieved to find that although I'd initially thought our little apple tree had succumbed to the elements based on a hurried early-morning peep out the window, it was still firmly rooted in the hillside. 

Just as I was heading back inside, I looked over beside the grill area and noticed that my garden boxes were all filled with vibrant, beautiful, lush... grass.

Grass? I thought as I ran my hand along the tippy-tops of the willowy blades. Where did you come from? And why is there so much of you? I stopped and thought back to last spring when I added fresh soil to the beds so I could use them (which, incidentally, never happened). I didn't use grass seed, did I? No, we don't even have grass seed. 

Yep, somehow, my garden beds are full of beautiful grass (that rather ironically looks better and healthier than its streetside counterpart). And that made me think: sometimes, blessings show up in unexpected --and sometimes even strange-- places. I didn't plant this grass, but it sure does look lovely out there in my garden boxes. So lovely, in fact, that I think I'll keep it. So I challenge you to look for the unexpected, unplanned, unusual blessings in your own life. They're there, waiting for you to see and experience them in all of their glory.

February 4

The weather was all over the place today: torrential downpours, dark clouds, thunder, high winds, and blue skies with fluffy white clouds and sunshine.

This was the view from our bedroom window at around 4 PM, after one bands of rain roared through and before the next rolled in.

Taken as a whole, our weather today was a metaphor for human life: highly variable, with significant periods of both storminess and sunshine; with struggles and good times. 

And as the picture suggests, there's always blue sky above the storm clouds, even when we can't see it. So for that truth --for the knowledge that God is always with us and always good, even when that seems untrue-- I'm grateful.

February 3

It was quite chilly out today, so the heater was running more often than it wasn't. (And yep, definitely looking forward to the next PG&E bill!)

This evening after dinner, I finally decided to hunker down for a Columbo marathon while the male folk watched Apollo 13 in the family room. But before they started the movie, I asked Adam to start the fire and get Peacock working for me so I could begin my binge.

And he did both without complaint. 

He's a great guy, that husband of mine. And I am a very blessed wife.

February 2

Another day of unstable weather meant another day of rainbows, like this one I spotted after I arrived at the grocery store this morning.

And of course, rainbows are always reminders of God's presence and provision; of the truth that lovely things can so often arise from difficult times that feel anything but lovely while we're living through them.

So once again, I'm grateful for their beauty and for their deep, wonderful meaning.

February 1

Yesterday was hard. Without going into details, I'll just say that adolescence is difficult and complicated and, at times, heartbreaking. And it's all of those things and more for the mom who has to watch it all unfold.

So after all of that plus a night that featured a string of vivid dreams that made me feel like I hadn't slept at all, I was tired when I woke up today. And truthfully, I was also extremely grumpy. Last night's pounding rain continued into daylight and I was just tired and frustrated and sore (thanks to my arthritic knees) by the time I arrived at the Mother Ship for my daily fuel-up. 

And it was then that the day began to turn around.

I squeezed my SUV into a too-small spot (because, Grumpy Me grumped, people shouldn't park on the space lines like the two cars on either side of me had. So I stuck it to both of them by parking between them. Never mind that I wound up having to climb into my own backseat to get out of the car). And then I looked up and spied an amazing rainbow that arched across the entire sky. It was so vivid and beautiful that I stared at it for a full minute. In that moment, it felt like God was reminding me that things will be okay.

A few minutes later, after securing my caffeinated gold, I chose a seat at the high top table (because a group of young moms had usurped my usual spot. When I saw them, the message of the rainbow that I'd just seen started to fade.) I felt the my inner grump again rising to the surface until Winnie spoke to me from a few stools away. I'd never met her before, but Winnie was an impish, princess apparel-clad 4-year old little girl who decided she wanted to chat with me. So she did! And even though I was initially annoyed that she was at my table, I wound up thoroughly enjoying the conversation with her and her mom, who joined us (and Terry) after she'd made her way through the purchase line. So that was yet another blessing. And I even remarked to Terry that the experience was just what I'd needed.

As if Winnie and the rainbow weren't enough, I had a third blessing appear a few minutes later in the form of Tina, my friend and the kids' and teens' director at church. I asked her if she had some time, and we sat and talked for probably an hour before she had to go. And it was so, so good to be able to share and offer each other advice and support. 

So yes, yesterday was hard. Painful, in some ways. But this morning reminded me of a few important truths. First off, God cares about my struggles and is with me through them. And second, He's faithful even when I'm not. The gorgeous rainbow should've been enough of a reminder, but He made a statement by sending me a rainbow, a 4-year old, and a good friend to hammer the point home. That's pretty amazing, if you ask me.