The Thing with Feathers

I am hanging on my porch this morning and it's beautiful. I am surrounded by mesmerizing green. My cat is on my lap purring his heart out, his head nestled into my robe in utter contentment. Piper, my dog, has dropped his ball at my feet no less than ten times, anxiously watching it bounce in hopes that I will toss it into the lush of greenery below me.

He is driven by hope.      

I got home on Tuesday evening after five beautiful days with family in Oklahoma and Texas. Oh my goodness. I had such an amazing time. My sister Tami picked me up from the airport the previous Thursday  and together the two of us drove/rode to Oklahoma City to visit my dad (and Jo) who is in the hospital there due to a hip replacement surgery. Then we went on to my mom's where we stayed until Sunday evening. My other sister Lori joined us and it was an absolutely glorious time. I am pretty sure that's the first time we three girls have gotten together at my parents'--just the three of us, no men, no kids--since I got married almost 27 years ago.

My dad came home from the hospital on Friday evening and so at that point, we shuffled between the two homes, doing that parental dance we do every time we go home as my parents live a whopping ten miles apart. But somehow in the midst of all of that, I ended up at my mom's--just me--on Saturday evening. Because it was Memorial Day weekend, we drove to my mom's parents' cemetery where she talked about those who have gone before us--sharing tidbits of their lives with me. And then we went on to the little cemetery out in the countryside where my precious Ciara is buried next to my dad's parents. We decorated her grave with toys and a stuffed lamb that has survived since her death 21 years ago.

And then? We went home and Mom and I went for a walk so that we could see the sunset. I absolutely adore North Carolina. It's gorgeous here--unspeakable beauty. But I sure do miss an Oklahoma sunset where the sky wakes up with streaks of golds and pinks at the end of the day. And so, determined to revel in one of Oklahoma's finest attractions, we set out for the edge of town where one can see for miles with little distraction but a winding road and endless prairie.

That time with my mom will go down as one of my favorite memories.

On Sunday evening, Tami and I once again said our goodbyes to Dad and Jo as we headed back to Texas. After I hugged my dad, tears streaming down my face and choking back sobs, he reached out and touched my leg. "Love you," he said.

"I'll see you at Christmas, Dad."

I could go on sharing snippets of everyone in my family: how when I arrived at Tami's my beautiful, sweet niece Cass made a bed for me in her room; how Caleb played the guitar and sung his heart out; how Courtney and Cass giggled and shared together as they created a photo album of their year together at school and uploaded it to Facebook; how Jared shared his heart with me--my precious beautiful nephew whom I adore so much; how Chas hugged me so tightly as though he never wanted to let go when we said our good-byes...

There is nothing like family.

Yesterday Roy and I drove to Home Depot and bought flowers--begonias and petunias and impatiens and lilies and daisies. Purples and yellows and whites and pinks. A splash of color in my yard. In a few weeks, after they have grown and spread their wings a bit, my garden will be alive with summertime.

Yesterday we were walking through Kohl's, getting Jace black pants and shoes for his Pathfinder outfit, when suddenly Jace stopped. He said, "Mom, I've been thinking. Everything that happens? As soon as it happens, it's in the past. Like what I just said? It's in the past already."

I said, "That's right, Jace. That's why we have to learn to enjoy every moment. We have to make everything count because life flies by."

And so? We have to build our lives on hope. I am brimming with hope today. I have hope that I will go home to Oklahoma again and see both of my parents. I will walk the narrow roads with my mom. I will hug my dad and tell him I love him again. I will see my nieces and nephews who are so dear to my heart, and relish these moments of watching them forge their own way as they near adulthood. I will laugh with my sisters who know me like the backs of their hands and love me anyway...again.

And someday I will see my sweet Ciara...again.

I have hope that my yard will flourish with blooming flowers this summer. I have hope for laughter and joy and kindness shared and kindness given. I have hope for brighter days after tragedies and family gatherings that ebb and flow.

And so, dear Piper, here you go. I'll throw the ball for you so that you can keep on dreaming and building your life on hope.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

                      -Emily Dickinson

The Circle of Life

Yesterday--Mother's Day--was a genuinely great day. Roy got me a 10x20 canopy for my porch and so we bar-b-qued for lunch and then hung out under the canopy to eat. There were a total of 8 of us talking and laughing out there so it was quite a grand time and we all stuffed ourselves like pigs. Afterwards the girls took off to do their thing and Roy and I went on a motorcycle ride on the Blue Ridge. And then? Yesterday evening the girls came back and Austin and Guerin came too so it was a whole lot of chaos in my living room.

A perfect kind of Mother's Day.

This week holds all kinds of good stuff--with two exceptions. One: my mom leaves Thursday. I have absolutely loved every second of her being here. She does my laundry daily, quietly going about her business washing and drying and folding and putting away. It's like I have a magical dresser and closet that just keeps replenishing itself with clean clothes. And she's my walking partner because my friend Tammy dumped me for her husband. (Jerk.) And in the morning when it's time for breakfast? She prepares this beautiful platter of fruit, all ready to eat. Then she does the dishes--washes and dries and puts away. My goodness. It begins to feel like regular life in no time -- I'm thinking I was born to be a princess and somehow I missed my calling. But regardless it has been a whole lot of amazing having Mom here for a couple of weeks and I don't want to see it end.

The second exception is Darian flies out on Monday--one week from today. And so, though that doesn't happen this week, this week will be all about preparing for her departure: going shopping for summer clothes, packing her suitcase, cooking her favorite dishes one last time, etc. I seriously can't think about it.

Yesterday, Mom, Darian and I sat out on the swing and talked for quite awhile in the afternoon. I played ball with Piper while we chatted away about nothing. But as I looked around, I couldn't help but think how North Carolina is just so beautiful. It's stunning really--lush emerald green and flowers bursting vibrant color and towering trees on all sides. We have a bird feeder in our yard and a red cardinal has decided that it his his personal feeder. He loves to sit on top of it and claim it as his own, chasing away any birds that dare to venture his direction. So as I sat there looking around and joining in the conversation, I thought about how much I cherish summertime. It's beautiful and free and relaxed. Our lives are filled with bar-b-ques and motorcycle rides and swimming pools. Everyone seems to smile a bit more readily as schedules aren't so packed and daytime seems to have an endless quality about it. I cherish this time of year when school is ending and 2.5 months of blissful summer are ahead of me.

I am amazed by life in general. Yesterday I contemplated when it was that I realized how truly fleeting life on this planet is. When I was in my 20's and 30's, I was clueless. It seemed I would have little kids whining at my feet forever. I didn't recognize how quickly kids grow up and move on with their lives, leaving you with furrowed brow, wondering how in the world that happened.

But now? I reallize--fully recognize--how important it is to cherish every moment because, before you turn around twice, it's gone.

It seems like yesterday my sisters and I were gathered in my mom's living room, chatting it up about our futures and where we were headed next. And now my mom bears silent witness as her journey with teenagers is repeated in the life of her daughter.

And someday?

I will most likely (barring a tragedy of some sort) visit my daughters' homes, quietly folding their laundry and helping them in the kitchen while they go about their busy lives, mothering and preparing and planning.

Staying Out of the Way

Last night was the APCS spring concert. Jace had to be there by 6:00 and he was just a mess all evening: What time is it? I don't want to be late! I'm so nervous, Mom. I just know I'm going to mess up. How should I wear my hair? I wish I had thick hair like Josh's. I love Josh's hair, Mom. Can I make mine look like that? What if I mess up?

He was just a bundle of nerves. One would think that he was playing a solo the way he fretted about this performance. And so, when the band got situated on the stage, I made my way up to the front to record Jace, looking nervous and quite serious up there at the very back, practically hidden in the drum section. I held up my iPad to record the first song and he motioned to me: I'm not playing this one!

Oh!

And so I waited. For the second song, he played the bass drum, his face so intent on the music as he counted to himself. For the third song, he played the chimes--hitting them maybe a total of seven times--again the picture of utter concentration. But then during intermission, he ran to me: Mom! I messed up! Could you tell?

I laughed. Of course not, Jace! You were spectacular!

Sometimes it's so easy to let ourselves get in the way of seeing the good, of recognizing what we did right. Even when we're just eleven.

Yesterday was Mom's birthday and since she is visiting, I came home early from school to make her a birthday lunch: tacos and Mexican rice and fried squash. The only thing missing was the watermelon: aka Mom's birthday cake. So on today's agenda is dropping by Farmer's Market to pick one up, one day late...but who's counting? I told her earlier that for her gift I wanted to take her shopping, buy her a new dress.

My goodness no. I have plenty of clothes! They may be outdated but they work just fine. I don't want you to spend your money on that.

"Okay, Mom. How about some shoes. Could I buy you some shoes?"

Oh my...no! I have plenty of shoes! 

I'm flying home in a couple of weeks and so, I said, "Okay. Well, when Tami and I come home at the end of May we'll take you shopping."

That will be just fine.

So I'm not sure what made the difference. Maybe it's the promise of an afternoon with two daughters rather than just one. Regardless, I'll make good on my promise and we'll take my mom shopping for a combined birthday and Mother's Day gift. A little late but...again...who's counting?

Today is Friday...blissful, beautiful Friday that holds with it the promise of a weekend. Savana is flying home today. She's been in Lincoln, visiting her best friend from high school who is getting married in June. She can't attend the wedding so she flew up as a surprise for a surprise party--and Savana was the first "gift." She posted the "moment" on Facebook when Bekah realizes she's there and I've watched it a few million times. It's so sweet and tender and I know those girls had an amazing 48 hours together.

Today Roy and I are visiting a travel agent because we're going on a cruise this summer. It's been our dream vacation since we were dating but have never been able to manage it financially. We're both so excited and can't wait to explore the different possibilities.

Today is a celebration party at APCS: pizza and a movie for the whole school, so Jace has the promise of a great day at school.

Today I have Darian at home with me but days with her are fleeting as she's flying out in a little over a week for Wisconsin where she will reside the entire summer. I can't think about it really. And so I am determined to savor each moment I have with her and, of course, she takes full advantage:

Hey, Mom! Come hang with me in my bedroom!

I don't want to! You come into the living room with me!

Mom!! I'm leaving soon! Come into my bedroom! Now!

And so I do, sighing heavily but not willing to miss a moment.

Today holds so much promise. I am just hoping I don't get in the way of so much right.

Celebrating

One week from today I will be officially done with school for the year.

Ah. I can't wait.

But yesterday? It was a fabulous day. I worked at Hope Chest with Sara, the new director, and we just had the best time working together and chatting it up, getting to know each other. She is such a genuine person--kind and authentic and open. She's the kind of girl who I would pick for one of my good friends, and so the fact that we are now working together is simply icing on top.

When I got home, Roy informed me that Rick Anderson was taking all of the international students out for dinner and requested that we come along as I am the ESL teacher. And so, we joined them at Aow's--a restaurant that, if I never ate there again that would be just fine. It was such a fun time, though--everybody relaxed and laughing and talking a mile a minute.

And then I came home and helped Mom and Darian and Savana cook up a whole lot of food for a celebration party Savana threw: Hooray! We are free at last! And so our home was filled with laughter and great people and scrumptious food as Savana has turned into a divine cook.

And then? I crashed.

So this morning as I sit here with my iPad and look around, I see a few remnants of the party last night. Somehow as I picked up last night I overlooked the glass sitting on the table, still filled with water. A plastic cup lay on the floor, cracked as evidently someone stepped on it. And then there's the beautifully potted plant that Zach and Riley McDonald brought over for Savana. It's a cute little thing. Sure hope I don't kill it.

Plants, in my opinion, are such great gifts. They are perfect for those people whom you just don't know what to get. Currently in my living room I now I have several plants due to the kindness and generosity of others and every time I look at them, they make me smile as they are such a sweet reminder.

On my end table I have a basket filled with this adorable arrangement of plants that Tammy gave me when Madeline passed away. (That still seems unbelievable. It seems I should be able to dial her number and hear her voice--I just can't fathom that she is actually gone.) It's an adorable arrangement of several plants, a nest with eggs , and a cute little bunny. One of the plants is an orchid and it is, unbelievably, still blooming.

I've never been too good with plants, to be honest. In fact, when Roy and I first got married I had several houseplants I'd purchased sitting on the windowsill. Roy walked by and said, What's this? Death row?

Then when Ciara died, we had so many gorgeous flower arrangements in our living room that it looked like a floral shop. And then? They began to die one by one and I found that so tragic--I could hardly stand it at the time, reliving Ciara's death with each one. Finally, each arrangement was gone and we were down to just one lonely little potted plant. And of course...knowing my history and talent with plants, I pleaded with God to please let this one survive! I can't bear throwing another one away!

And it did. That little plant grew and grew and survived well over ten years. That plant was my little miracle.

On my windowsill is another orchid that Sara, my co-worker, gave me when she joined our Hope Chest team. It's a mini and it just looks so cute sitting there, a little touch of spring.

When Savana graduated, we went out for lunch with our whole family and Fred and Mary, Roy's brother and wife. Fred has been so generous with Savana, purchasing her books for her every semester--and that has been a hefty cost. And so, since I wanted to do something for them to let them know how very much I appreciate them, I purchased an orchid for their living room.

Plants are those gifts that just keep giving. Now that we are done (fingers crossed) with cold weather, I'm beginning to dream about my little flower garden out front. I have some annuals that are bursting from the ground but I leave room for a couple of perennials as well. Visiting Home Depot and bringing home a trunk filled with blooming colors?

Ah. That's just a whole lot of wonderful. It's like a little party goin' on in my yard every summer. A celebration of its own.

A New Color

We had the most amazing weekend in Tennessee. We went down to celebrate Savana's graduation on Friday evening. We spent Saturday with some previous students who have grown up, married and now have families of their own--kids in elementary school. How in the world did that happen? And then we spent the evening with an old friend--Debbie Condado--whom we haven't seen in years. She's one of those rare people that, when we get together, we can talk for hours and hours as though no time has past. It was so good to see her, and Roy and I were inspired to make a trip to Colorado some day in the near future to visit her and her husband. Their kids and our kids were childhood friends as we saw them often back in the early years. But now, of course...well, Debbie is a gramma. Our kids are beginning to forge their own paths. So this next visit will most likely be much quieter and calmer than the previous.

And then Sunday...it was simply an amazing day. We gathered with friends and family in the Chattanooga Convention Center--along with thousands of others--and watched Savana walk across the stage to receive her diploma. She looked so beautiful up there--so self-assured and strong. I am proud of her. She's fought hard for her place in life. Afterwards we all went out to eat at this divine Italian restaurant that has the most delicious salad and rolls and everything. Roy's brother Fred and Mary were both there, and my mom and of course Guerin--all to celebrate my daughter. It was just plain fun--filled with good conversation and laughter and a few tears as Madeline, Roy's mom, was supposed to be there but of course...she wasn't.

And then we packed up and headed back to the motel to change clothes and divide up for heading home. Savana and Guer rode together in the pickup; a friend (Miranda) picked up Darian so that Darian could ride back with her to Pisgah as she otherwise would be riding by herself; Roy, Mom and I settled into our car, just the three of us. The number three is starting to feel familiar these days as that number is becoming the new normal.

When we picked up Jace from a friend's as he opted for a Pathfinder camping trip instead of the Tennessee adventure, he was filled with stories. As soon as we got home, he said, Mom, I have so many stories for you! I told him I couldn't wait to hear every one of them but of course, life was quite busy at home so they would have to wait so I could thoroughly enjoy them. And so, Mom and I unpacked the house while he and Roy mowed the lawn together. But just before he headed to bed, I said, "Come tell me everything, Jace. I am so excited for your stories!" And so he settled on my lap (I love that he still loves to sit on my lap even though he is so tall now that he has to stretch out his feet so that he doesn't eat his knees and it hurts a little--but I suffer through because my days are waning), and he said, "Do you know that girl Lindsay in my class? Well, Jacob and I were sitting by the fire and she came over to talk to us. She told us that we are really nice--we're not as weird as she thought."

He looked so contemplative, so proud...as he told me this. He sat there for a moment, remembering. We discussed that for a minute or two and then I said, "So do you have any other stories?" He told me a couple of random things--nothing too engaging--and then he said,"I'm really tired, Mom. I'm ready to go to bed." And so he headed off to brush his teeth and as I watched him go, I couldn't help but smile at this child who is growing up and becoming a teenager before my very eyes. He is discovering girls and fun conversation that makes you warm inside when realize that others like you.

Oh my goodness...let the fun begin.

Awhile later, after Mom and Savana went to bed and Darian and I had talked about the weekend and boys and life in general, I said, "Well--tomorrow is back to normal. We should head to bed." And so she left, calling G'nite Mom! as she headed to her bedroom and I turned off the lights. But just before I headed out of the living room, I stopped and picked up this picture of Roy that we got in the mail while we were gone. It's a picture of him when he was about 17 years old, all dressed in his football regalia, helmet on the ground. He looks so young and fresh and beautiful, those large hands that I adore plain to see. And I couldn't help but smile as I looked at that youthful face, touching it with my hands, so thankful that he's mine now.

And I thought, Where has the time gone? How did you grow up to be 54 years old? How did you, beautiful boy, turn into this man that now has grown children and a wife and a home and all ofthe privileges   and responsibilities of adulthood? How??

Life is all about transitions. Just when you think you have life in the bag, that you have everything figured out, life changes. Kids grow up. Parents get old. Scenery changes. Your photograph today, smiling and young, becomes a relic of the past before you turn around twice. But life is good; it's sweet. Though some moments are filled with grit and pain, our fingernails caked with mud from hanging on, we continue to struggle because despite it all, we want to live.

And so, one day passes, and then another, and change happens moments at a time and we don't even recognize it until suddenly the reality that everything is different hits you in the face. But it's all good. Sweet days are ahead.

Life will take on a new color--a color that will become familiar and feel like home.

When Rain Crashes Down

The night before last, the crash of thunder in the middle of the night followed by a rushing downpour woke me up out of a dead sleep. Jace came running in: Mom!

It's okay--go back to bed. It's just a big storm.

But yesterday morning when I got up, I looked out my kitchen window and saw the canopy covering my porch twisted up, one side completely collapsed under a mangled mess of metal.

I love my porch with the canopy that brings shade during hot summer days. One of my favorite things is sitting outside in one of the rocking chairs while Roy grills burgers for lunch. Or  reading, my feet propped on a table, and listening to the birds as they call from the trees. In fact, when winter finally decided to retire for the year and Roy pulled out the canopy, I couldn't help but feel such a sense of excitement for days ahead underneath its shade all summer long.

So I'm thinking we are going to have to figure something out...but I'm not sure what yet. Mother's Day is just around the corner...

Yesterday we were delivered two huge boxes from Roy's brother Frank. One of those boxes had a frame that housed three photos together that Roy requested. It had a family picture when Roy was about five years old, a picture of Southmost Diesel, Roy's dad's business that stole Roy's childhood, and a picture of a truck. It is the coolest picture ever and as soon as we figure out where we want it, it's going up in our house. It looks so nostalgic, each member of the family smiling sweetly for the camera--the perfect family. And Roy is absolutely adorable--oh my goodness.

We've received lots of boxes lately, filled with all kinds of surprises that Frank mailed to us from their mom's home. He and his wife Barb are slowly going through everything, sorting and mailing and giving away and discarding. Some things they have sent are invaluable and make Roy laugh or smile, remembering.

We now have a homemade quilt that his grandmother made when the kids were little. It's a functional quilt, a silent reminder of the good ole' days. They sent us a set of plates that are delicate and elegant. And they also sent a single cup and saucer that doesn't match anything else in the box. I've wondered about that. Why? I'm not sure why that little cup and saucer didn't make the give away or discard pile. It's absolutely adorable and I would like a complete set of them. But a single set? I think I'm missing something.

And then there's this old iron. Back when Roy was little, his mom used to heat up that iron on a stove and then make grilled cheese with it. But as times changed, rather than discarding it, his mom used it as a doorstop and Roy claims he is surprised he even has a toe left, he jammed it on that iron so many times. When Madeline was diagnosed with terminal cancer, she called Roy and asked him if there was anything at all that he wanted.

That's such an awful question, Mom. I don't want anything, he said.

But she insisted, saying that she wanted to make sure that each of her kids got something that they could remember her by. She had some things of value that he could have asked for but, after careful consideration, he said, "Do you still have that iron you used as a doorstop that drove me crazy?"

And so, that iron is now ours. It lays upstairs by our bathroom door now, and I look at it every day. It is absolutely a relic of days gone by--an antique. But when I see it, I can't help but smile and picture that little boy with that mischievous grin in the picture that will soon hang on my wall--that little boy who grew up and stole my heart.

When these last boxes came in the mail yesterday, Roy carried them in and then said, I'm going out to work in the garage.

I looked at him, puzzled. "Aren't you going to stay and see what's inside?"

"I'm tired of memories."

Sometimes we have to take life in pieces. Sometimes we have to spend some time remembering, looking back and embracing the good. But when those memories crash and collide, creating a kaleidoscope of emotion exploding in our brains, we have to look forward to the future and know that good days are ahead. We have to dream and plan and focus on creating new memories that bring joy and goodness into our lives.

So that canopy that crashed down? I'm sad it's gone but...I'm getting a new one. I'm going to have my porch back and I'm going to spend some time this summer reading and talking to Roy while he bar-b-ques. I'm going to relax under its protection while thunder roars and rain crashes down around me.

More to Come

Last night was the Gymnastics Home Show. I always stand amazed at Roy's ability to pull together a team, perform flawless routines and make it all look effortless. Last night was no different. It was spectacular. Good job, hon.

My life has been in overdrive for the past few weeks, but as of today, the job aspect is on a downhill slope. I have one more major event to chalk off (Savana's graduation weekend) and then? We will be sprinting towards summer. I am so excited: lazy days reading on the swing; flowers blooming in the garden; long rides on winding roads behind Roy on the motorcycle; walks around the track with Tammy; home-cooked meals that are prepared with thought rather than thrown together at the last second so that we can all get back out the door to head in different directions; a relaxed wardrobe of long (to hide my aging legs) shorts and t-shirts...

Ah. Bliss.

I have noticed on Facebook that alumni weekends and Gymnastics Home Shows abound across the country. It seems like people everywhere on on their last sprint towards the end of school. In boarding schools across the US of A people are counting the days for one of the perks of the job:
 S-U-M-M-E-R.  Blissful, remarkable summer with all of its bounty.

Recently I was talking to someone who isn't in education and they were telling me that they were hoping to accomplish something by the end of the year. I said, "So is that May or December?" I think in education lingo--because, of course, the end of the year--to me--is May. When I'm talking to "regular" people, I have to shift my thinking. I'm not sure how the rest of the world survives working 49 out of 52 weeks. I'm not sure how they manage leaving the house by 7:30 am on a day where the sun bursts and laden trees spread their wealth of greenery for white walls and desks and busy-ness. I've never lived that way and neither did my parents. Education is in my blood. It's all I know.

And last night as I watched these kids perform on the mats, I was reminded of how much I love this job. As one of my freshman girls, Cheyenne, did her thing with a hula hoop, twisting her body in ways that shouldn't be possible, her eyelids glittering and lips sparkling behind a nervous smile, I burst, swallowing tears of pride for this girl who stole my heart from the moment I met her.

And there was EhK, running out alongside a bunch of girls who were doing the splits and showing off his own ability to manage them as well, throwing up his hands and encouraging the crowd to clap for his well-over six foot frame that managed this feat. That's EhK--always looking for some attention with his easy-going smile and silly ways.

Several times when Miranda ran across the mats or was thrown up on a pyramid, I thought There's Darian!...and then had to remind myself that...nope. My girls' day in gymnastics has come and gone. How in the world did that happen? I still well-remember watching how their little five year old bodies were thrown up on top of a pyramid, faces beaming as they waved wildly at the crowd. My heart stopped but they were alive and free, fully trusting that those below them would catch them soundly. And they always did.

It seems like yesterday. And now? One is graduating from college while the other is finishing up her freshman year.

Education has been good to me, to my family. It has provided a wealth of goodness for my kids. Last night I was the first to leave for the gym so I asked Darian to be sure Jace came with her. Several minutes after the show started, I suddenly realized I hadn't seen Jace since leaving home.  Getting Darian's attention, I mouthed,  Where's Jace?? She looked around wildly...and shrugged. So, I shrugged too and went back to watching the show. Because, the truth is, I knew that regardless he was fine. He was most likely somewhere in the gym, hanging with a friend that he found. And sure enough--he was.

But the point is, we live in a safe place. Our kids have been able to run a campus, ride bikes freely, stay out 'til dark and live as I grew up when neighborhoods were safe and nobody worried that one of us would go missing. It's a blessing that I take for granted most days, forgetting that most families don't have such luxury.

This morning as I perused Facebook, I looked through some pictures of class reunions from schools where I've taught and noted photographs of past students who are now all grown up. Some I recognized, some I didn't. But regardless, I was reminded of how blessed I've been to have these relationships with kids over the years who are now adults, forging families of their own.

And so, as I look forward to the days ahead, I'm thankful--thankful that this year is coming to a close, thankful to my freshmen who have given me opportunity to know 32 more people in this world who make me laugh (when I'm not exasperated), thankful for an environment that has let me raise my family with plenty of room to run, thankful for so many, many things.

And to think...there's so much more to come.