July 31

Today is Logan's 14th birthday. It's almost impossible to believe it, since we didn't get to see him at 6 or 7 or 10 or 13, but birthdays have this way of repeating themselves every single year, so here we are yet again. It was a pleasant enough day, with cool-for-summer weather, blue skies, carry-out Outback Steakhouse for lunch (with, naturally, his favorite brown bread), old home videos, a new car for his grave, a viewing of Cars 2, spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, and chocolate cake with chocolate frosting decorated by his siblings, who finished their work and then launched into a spontaneous dance party. It was a good day that brought back good memories, even if they are always tinged with sadness and what-ifs.

With all of that said, I'll close with a little tale from the day. I saw a gangly-legged boy sitting at a table with a girl and a woman as I left the Mother Ship this morning. My gaze probably lingered slightly too long on his not-quite-child, not-quite-man face and I wanted so badly to pause for a moment to ask his age, but I stopped myself because the act seemed too strange. I worried I'd come off as some weirdo rather than what I am: a mom trying desperately to picture her son at an age he'll never "be" in this life. But I kind of wish I'd gotten over my fears and asked, because truthfully, if I had to guess, I'd say this boy was 14. And had I asked, I'd have had the chance to respond with "hey, my oldest son is 14, too. Today is his birthday." Because although he wasn't here with us for long, he made a huge impression, and I am beyond proud that God chose me to be his mom. And I want others to know who he was and still is, even if new people don't get the chance to meet him in person, because he was everything love and life and energy and ebullience.

Happy, happy birthday, Logan.

July 30

Ah, these three people and their ever-growing minds and collective imagination.

I was sitting at the table with them earlier half-listening as Abby outlined the pictured animals' back stories (while speaking as BearBear, of course). I snapped to full attention as she talked about the accepted monetary unit of Bearlandia (and I'd share it but honestly, it's incredibly bizarre) and, horrified, asked for an explanation. And then they all laughed and rolled their eyes and told me that said-items had always been the accepted currency in Bearlandia.

Yeah. It's a weird story. A very weird story. But their weirdness brings me joy sometimes. And for that, I'm thankful.

July 29

Logan's 14th birthday is in two days. I'm not really ready for it, but I suppose I never really am so that's neither here nor there. But I was thinking about it earlier today as I drove over to the Mother Ship to pick up my iced coffee en route to the old house (where I had lots of garage-boxes to empty and sort). I wasn't exactly surprised to find Abby and Gracie sitting out in front of the Coldstone next door (since that was their planned destination), but seeing them there did send my mind on a tangent.

Although no one else will ever fill the place that Logan holds in the inner regions of Abby's heart, I am so happy that she has Gracie. I'm happy that they can sing show tune after show tune and talk for hours about nothing at all, and I love that they can count on each other when they need emotional support. (Even when they may not realize they need it.) And I'm happy that they "get" each other like they do.

We all need Those People in our lives, and I feel blessed that these two are so often blessed with --and by-- each other.

July 28

I just decided that I don't spend enough time on the patio. It has nothing to do with today's entry; just an observation. Onward. Abby announced this morning that she'd found a recipe for cheesecake bites that she wanted to try out. Since I like cheesecake, she's generally proven to be a good (read: successful) baker, and I'm not insane, I bought her the small list of items she needed to make it happen. So that's what she's doing right now (in our 80-some degree kitchen. Advantage: patio when it comes to evening temps at the Wight House.)

I appreciate that she likes to bake and that she trolls the interwebs looking for recipes to try out. Now that's partly because I'm a willing consumer of the yummies shes makes, but it's also because I think it shows good initiative on her part. She's not generally the first person to jump up to volunteer and she's definitely not the first person to speak up in a crowd, but when she feels a passion for something, it shows. So I'm thankful for the things that make her happy and motivate her to act and do more.

July 27

As I've noted before (multiple times, probably), the whole shelter-in-place thing that's taken over 2020 has left me feeling a bit isolated. So I was happy to have Nikki over for a brief visit this evening.

We just sat out back at the table (like Kristine and I are wont to do of late) and spent a little time catching up.

I hadn't seen her since March, so the face-time was good for me. And for that, I'm thankful.

July 26

I finished up my fourth puzzle of the month yesterday and was about to start on number five this afternoon when I had a radical idea: why not invite Adam to help? (I'm very much a me-do-it'er when it comes to puzzles. I have no idea why. Just am.) So he joined me in the dining room, dumped all 1,000 pieces of Baltimore on the table, and started sorting. And I cringed.

Why? Because that's. Not. How. I. Do. Puzzles. I de-bag the pieces and then carefully pour them into the bottom half of the box. Then I sort though said pieces, find edges, and assemble those first. Adam, however, likes to lay them all out and turn them all face-up. He finds some edge pieces, but not all of them. And he finds notable objects --in this case, words-- to put together first.

So yeah, I sat in silent annoyance as I watched him piece together one word and then another, but at some point, I realized a truth: we're still working together. We have different strategies and different ways of going about the task, but in the end, the picture will be the same regardless of whether we do it my way or his way or a combination of both. And on top of that, the world would be a dull place if we all did everything in exactly the same way. So today, I'm thankful for our differences and for how we can pull together in spite of them --or even, in some cases-- because of them.

July 25

One of the many (many) bummers of COVID was the cancellation of the girls' annual dance recital and their annual dance pics. Fortunately, Abby and Gracie chose to humor Angela and me today when they agreed to don their costumes and do their make-up so the mamarazzi could capture some memories anyway.

After the girls' session, they thought it would be a great idea for the moms to don our sign-of-the-times masks and mimic one of their poses, so since fair is fair, we complied. So that's what we have here: the high schoolers on top, and the moms on the bottom.

It was a brief meet-up (because dude, the sun was intense today) but a great one nonetheless. I feel so blessed to know that Gracie is there for Abby and vice versa, and like Angela, I adore the photos we've taken of the two of them over the years, so I am super-duper thankful that they let today happen.