June 7

I was immersed in my own little world a few minutes ago, surfing the internet and half-watching Wheel of Fortune. When I say 'half-watching', I mean I wasn't really paying attention. It was, at best, background noise. But very suddenly, something made me look at the TV. And I mentally tuned in just in time to see the contestant solve this puzzle:

If you've followed me for a while now, you know the significance of these lyrics. I consider it Logan's song; in fact, it's the one I sang to him as he made the transition from this life to the next. I've caught myself starting to sing it to the other kids a few times and stopped very short. I love them all dearly, but it's simply not their song.

Anyway, it felt very much like an I'm here kind of moment.

June 6

The good news is that Brady and I are home. The bad news is that despite my desperate efforts, I finally contracted his miserable cold. Despite not feeling particularly well, though, it's hard not to marvel over God's creation when you have a view like this:

The vantage point from above the clouds is always a great one.

June 5

My mom's retirement dinner was this evening. My family joined several of her co-workers and old friends to celebrate her many years as a public school teacher.

I'm proud of her efforts, and I thank God for her presence in my life over the years. I'd say more... but it really is that simple.

June 4

I had such a hard time picking today's image. I saw several dear old friends (not that they're literally old... I've just known them for a while) and took pictures with nearly all of them. We also went for a drive through the vast, beautiful countryside that afforded yet more photo opps, had lunch at a favorite old haunt of mine, AND got ice cream at a popular local joint that I hadn't visited in over 20 years. But despite my indecision, I finally made a selection, though even up to this very minute I'm not sure it's the right one because it may well be the most personal picture I've ever shared here. And I'm not sure how I feel about doing it.

This is the first house I ever lived in.

I lived here from birth until roughly age seven, when my parents split up. I have very conflicted feelings about this house; though I have a collection of very good memories there, I also have an equally strong assortment of not-so-good ones.

I had a recurring dream about being there several years ago, and I always feel the pull to drive by when I'm back in the area. I don't know why; maybe it gives me a chance to say I'm bigger than you. I'm over the things I remember that weren't pretty. Or maybe it gives me a chance to say I remember playing with GI Joe action figures out by the dogwood tree. And I remember racing Matchbox cars down the hallway and I remember watching Gilligan's Island and Mr. Rogers in the family room with the old orange carpet.

Or maybe it's a conflation of both. Maybe it gives me the chance to remember all of those things --the good as well as the bad-- and own them. Or, more accurately, to acknowledge that God owns them. Because it's always good to recognize that ultimately, God owns it all. At least, that's what I think.

June 3

Brady and I spent a big chunk of our day with my grandma. She's 90 years old now, but still lives in the same house she lived in with my grandpa for nearly 30 years. And she's still, in my humble opinion, remarkably independent.

My grandma has always been very important to me. I lived with her for a few months when I was very young, and then again for a few years in elementary school. She's one of my closest relatives, and I really wish I could see her more often.

Anyway, today, she took us for a ride in the golf cart she uses to get around her rather expansive piece of property.

To make what could be a very long story much shorter, I loved the ride. It wasn't long and it had a bizarre ending that involved grandma and I pushing the cart up a hill toward her garage while Brady sat in the center seat, but I really treasured how it made me feel to touch that ground again. How it felt to smell the grass and see the vibrant green color of the trees. It felt home-y and familiar. My adult life may have carried me far from these roots, but as Sugarland and Bon Jovi said, who says you can't go home?

June 2

Since the next few days will no doubt revolve around the concept of nostalgia for me, I figured I should just go ahead and let myself take the memory lane route here.

Here are Brady and his beloved Bear Bear sitting on the steps at my mom's house with a couple of Care Bears that once belonged to me. He was pleased to meet the extra bears, and spent some time toting them around this afternoon.

I know I pretty much said the same thing yesterday, but it bears repeating: I see God in the ability I have to share elements of my own childhood with my little muffin.

June 1

Today was a beautiful, blessing-ful day. We all got up before the sun to head to the airport. Adam, Abby and Isaac saw Brady and I off at security. I was worried about traveling alone with the muffin man, especially since he has a double ear infection --ouch!-- but much to my delight, he was the perfect traveler. No meltdowns, no tantrums, no fussing, no complaining. He was charming and sweet and cute and fun to be around, even when I dragged him through the airport in Chicago to make our tight connection, and even when our bags took forever to show up at BWI, and even when we had to stand in line for our rental car for 40 minutes. Amazing.

And then I got to have this gratifying moment, too: my littlest man standing in front of my mom's house, where I lived from age 11 through high school.

It's a blessing to be able to take him to places that were important to me when I was a kid. As someone who lives so far from her roots, it gives me a chance to mix my past with my present, and create a cohesive whole.