I did it again, let more than two weeks slip by without typing one coherent sentence.
It's Labor Day, a day of rest for those who labor. It's also the day after my middle man-cub's 8th birthday. I feel a little melancholy today, and although I've never been a mom who gets weepy at the thought of her babies growing up, birthdays certainly indicate that time does indeed march on. He's kind of in between, he's not a little kid anymore, but he's not quite a big kid yet. He's a textbook middle child, going with the flow and low maintenance in so many ways, yet always seeming to be afraid he'll be left out or forgotten. If one of his brothers get praised for something, Larry chimes in, "What about me? I did that too!" Or if someone gets scolded for something, he pipes up, "That wasn't me! I didn't do that!"
He's all boy, in almost every way, even down to being kind of a mama's boy but only when his friends aren't looking. This picture isn't current, by any means, but it's one of my top two or three favorites of him. He's walking into the surf, for the very first time, holding his big brother's hand. It's just my favorite.
Happy birthday big dude.
So, noticing the passage of time today. And sad about hearing of the rough patch in a marriage of two people who are very dear to me. I'm hoping and praying that the power of love and the power of forgiveness can and will overcome the power of anger and the power of hurt feelings. The only thing I can do to help them is to pray for them, and be here to listen if they need or want me to. It doesn't feel right to sit by silently when people I care about are suffering, but at the same time, they are the only ones who can fix the issue. It's not mine to fix. But it still makes me sad, and at the same time, it makes me feel grateful for the people in my life who are willing to overlook my faults, forgive my mistakes and love me in spite of them.