Who will reach the stuff in the top cabinet for me?
Who will every time give me the first bite - the still hot soft it's his favorite part too first bite - of his dipcone?
Who will roast me the perfect marshmallow?
These things done for me over twenty-four years now. Never complaining, and only a few times hesitating on the dipped cone - only to give in.
And I'm in the middle of this little post, just a little silliness to always remind my girls how good their Daddy is to me in the little things, when my phone rings.
And I'm in the middle of this little post, just a little silliness to always remind my girls how good their Daddy is to me in the little things, when my phone rings.
He is calling.
He had worked the sound booth at our church for the funeral of a just one year old baby girl.
Strangers to us.
But is anyone really a stranger in the family of God?
I hear it in his voice, how hard his morning had been, before he speaks what he had texted me an hour earlier -
That was too hard.
And I sit in the living room of an eighty year old legend. Such a remarkable woman that even our legislative takes the time to wish her a happy birthday. And I'm telling her about someone who really likes my Gregg, and she interrupts me to say - Who doesn't?
And for a moment I think about cracking a joke - but I feel a flush of pride and say, I know - everyone does, don't they?
So, happy There-really-isn't-anything-special-about-this-day day, darlin'.
Except that I share it with you.
Love you,
Rie
