Sorting and savoring

Aaron taking a final bow during his
last drama performance. Yes, I cried.

It's that let-down feeling you have after everything is said and done. Your busy plans are complete, bags are emptied, things are sort of back in place and despite a moment of rest, you are still utterly exhausted and drained. Your company has left and life is back to normal - that is until your husband has meniscus surgery this Wednesday. And looking at you and your sassy pink-haired self, no one would know all that's been going on because you appear to be coping. But the fact is you are struggling and you (in this case me) wrestle with conflicting emotions. Clear as mud, huh? 

Without getting too personal because blogs like that make me uncomfortable, this is how I'm feeling. In some strange way, it seems as if nothing happened because so much happened and it's just too hard to process. It's postpartum depression minus the baby. I scarce can take it all in.

The Class Crest of 2012

Two graduations in nine days in two different states is not for the faint of heart. Of all the stressful things I have done in my life, having those two events so close to each other is wayyyy high up there on the things I wouldn't choose to repeat. Both moments were so significant and emotional, there wasn't time to absorb one without quickly being distracted by the other. As a result, I'm stunned. What did we just do? Where did we just go and come back from (and I don't even care about the questionable grammar)? How much money did we spend? Why am I both full of emotion yet in empty despair? The denouement of Aaron's high school graduation and Nate's graduation from the United States Military Academy needed their own proper time. Kind of like my arthritic right knee, there wasn't and isn't any cushion.

Nate and I after the graduation parade.
I really loved that shining brass buckle. Very shiny. ;)

It sure seems like these cadets don't
realize what a huge day this is for me
and all the rest of the 2012 USMA parents!

After a graduation celebration with some of Nate's friends and their families, the Hubs and I were driving on Bear Mountain Bridge. Our tummies were full of delicious food from Foodies and it was early evening. The United States Military Academy, an outline of the stately concrete structures were off in the distance. The view called out to my mama's heart. Amber lights sparkled from the windows, the Hudson River sat tranquil and tears streamed from my eyes. Tears are currently streaming from my eyes as I type this, thank you very much.
Cadets are still in these rooms, I thought to myself. They are busy doing things, I mused, but strangely, my boy is no longer there. How could that be??? His (and thusly my) 47 month journey had ended just hours before and everyone had seemingly moved on. Nate was ready. I guess I was not. 

The Hubs and I during Ring Weekend
standing in front of Nate's barracks.

As the Hubs kept his eyes on the road, I couldn't help but reach out and grab that little West Point with my fingers. Between my thumb and my pointer finger, I held West Point there as long as I could before we passed it by. I can never grasp what this place has meant to my OS or to me. 

Majestic - Washington Hall 

I can find reasons to return to West Point but none will be for my boy as a plebe, yuk, cow or firstie. The pangs of this reality sting and confuse. He loved that place. He hated it. It was so far away. I loved coming there. What tumult of spirit! No sooner had Nate graduated from USMA, then he bolted from Michie Stadium along with nearly 1000 other newly commissioned officers and finished turning in all their stuff. There wasn't any sentiment in the departure and it reminded me of the 90 second goodbye we had been issued on R-Day, that never to be forgotten day. No built-in cushion there that's for sure. 

My boy, that uniform, what memories

Pride, humility, loss, gain, and so much more jumble inside. I expect to be working through these experiences and emotions for quite some time because that's what a mama does, right? 

I'd love to hear from you if you can relate. West Point mom or not, you might empathize. Thanks for listening...

West Point graduation touchstone moments

This is not a glamour shot. 

Pictured here are the freckle face, orange hair ginger, the Hubs,
the Officer just after we pinned the bars on his uniform,
the weepy proud mama, the grandpa and the ministry-bound middle brother.

We are an imperfect bunch.
But we love each other.
And when not focusing on our own personal comforts which is often difficult for most people including myself and those in my clan.
We reach deep down inside and demonstrate support and care.

And this is what my oldest OS deserved on HIS day.
Not telling Nate how exhausted and hot we were (because I do not believe there are sufficient words and he was surely more tired and sweaty!) 
But rather standing next to our Soldier physically, emotionally and spiritually.
As he graduated from the United States Military Academy.
It was a privilege and an honor.
And if someone would have handed me a mirror,
And lipstick,
And some haircare products,
Or offered me a shower to freshen up,
You know, because an important picture was going to be taken,

I would have said no

And continued to hold my son's hand.

It was only after looking at this picture the following day
that I realized that we were all touching. I love that. 

Unconcerned about appearance,
Shedding tears of pride. 
No other place could I have been
Then next to Nate and surrounded by those who love him most. 
Making memories for a lifetime,
This perspiring, imperfect collection of people
Honored a man of integrity
Whom the Lord gave me for such a time as this
And I am richly, profoundly blessed to call him (and all those in this picture) my own. 

Senior table

Creating unconditional love on cardboard

Making Aaron's senior table was truly an act of love. 

Wednesday night, on the eve of high school graduation, moms and dads filled the gymnasium for a shining gesture. With Herculean effort, we decorated senior tables for our offspring. I know because I was among those parents attempting, in some impossible way to contain love on a 30"x30" plot of space. Talk about pressure!

For weeks I had been staging Aaron's table at home. With two children graduating nine days apart in two different states, I had to start early to make sure it was good. In 2008, Nate had a senior table and Aaron deserved for me to put in the same painstaking effort. In my practice sessions, sometimes I'd tape a picture in one place on the cardboard and then move it elsewhere. A few of my table prototypes were created actually in Aaron's room so he would see them when he came home from school. I'd anticipate the moment when Aaron would enter. Yes, I said to myself, hopefully he will not collapse upon seeing its beauty. Truly, I speculated, he will notice how I angled the ukelele JUST so, put the candle HERE, the coffee cup THERE and the tiny bell from Ukraine on THIS spot.

Middle OS senior pic taken by Aunt Lorri

And when Aaron would walk into his room, my ear would keen for the slightest gasp of wonder. If a second passed without a response, I couldn't stand it any longer. "Aaron, what do you think?" I'd beckon so desperate for his approval. Without exception Aaron showed his gratefulness. Whew.


Other times, you know, just in case a friend stopped by and you never know when that just might happen, I would do the whole set-up in the dining room and dare I admit, I'd walk down the stairs several times just to get a glimpse afresh. As the mama of three OS, for me with no other girl in my household, it was the equivalent of seeing a daughter in a wedding gown or a prom dress. Don't laugh. I felt joy.

The Hubs found other versions of the table in his office or in the hallway. Some family members were even blessed with text messages and pictures from me marking a new table development concept. A few were kind enough to acknowledge receipt of those pictures. Oh thank you if you indulged me!

I had been crying throughout the day
but vanity aside, I had to get a picture of me by Aaron's table. 

I sewed a swatch of remnant material from his books pants fabric. Aaron approved. Then I stitched a coordinating rectangle of some extra fabric a friend had given me. Aaron liked the manly colors. He assisted my efforts by writing in gold a poem from his favorite author William Cowper and I trimmed the sides of the cardboard with pages from an old family Bible. It wasn't perfect but the time had come for the official unveiling. Insecure feelings never replaced the warm and wonderful sentiment I felt inside.

A sample of one of the many other tables on display.

But I bet I wasn't the only one who spent copious amounts of time on the child's senior table project; based on what I saw, our collective souls were poured onto those hallowed folding tables. We did not create altars for our children, I guess we just wanted our son or daughter and all who passed by to smile and either say, "Wow, I am loved" or "Awesome, someone thinks very highly of that kid."

Another mom breathing
words of kindness upon my oliveshoot.

If you think this post is stupid, then we probably couldn't be friends. If you've read this far, you understand. Let's have lunch. 


Thursday arrived and tears flowed as we all beamed. I gazed and cried stopping by many of Aaron's friend's tables. I noted with appreciation that none of these tables felt ostentatious as if they were trying to steal attention from someone else. 

Oh how I adored seeing a classmate write
encouraging words to my boy, such loving
messages filled these pages.

The body of Christ enveloped the mood. With our individual 7 1/2 square feet carefully crafted, the seniors marked the passage of time. I paused with gratitude over the families represented and prayed for their children's future. 

After graduation, Aaron spent a
long time reading the messages.
What a thankful moment for all of us. 

Have you ever done something like for a loved one? What special things would hallmark your "table"? I'd so enjoy hearing about it. May you all have opportunity for such a celebration of life. 

Symbol of resilience

Two graduations + nine days apart + two different states does not equal a lot of time to write. Even now, though loaded with plenty of blog worthy material, I approach the keyboard with hesitation. I don't know how some people can be so prolific, those fleeting moments I find in between required tasks leave me woefully exhausted.

But the women in my writers' group are meeting this Wednesday and so I'm updating my blog. If you have read this far, thanks for at least checking in.

Easter pic of my mom and some of her grand babies

My mom is home from the hospital and skilled nursing facility. Seeing her recently alert and excited at my middle OS's final drama performance blessed us all. Progress is being made, thank you Jesus.

Strange that a tiny thing I observed a month ago, a small speck of a creature should continue to have a prominent place in my mind. Let me explain...

A month ago I pushed a wheelchair down the hospital hallway. My thought at the time was the only person in need of inspiration was the woman occupying the chair, certainly not me. It had been nearly 10 days since my mom had entered the hospital for routine surgery and she was still there. The ceramic bunny had relocated to a destination unknown and now I wanted to get sprung. I was sick of this place. We needed to leave premises without delay!

As I lugged the wheelchair into the outdoor patio area, I spotted an inch worm slinking by the path. Lurching and undulating its body, there it went measure by measure in front of the two of us. Some people feel lucky finding a penny on the curb, for me finding this little looper was a priceless sign from God (and I'm not even joking).

My mom and Inchworm

Without my mother's approval, I placed the inchworm on my mother's hospital blanket. Had she the will to protest, she would have shooed the little guy off her. My digital camera captured the moments when Inchy (the name I have hereby bestowed upon him) and my mom met. It wasn't love at first sight.

I urged Mom to take heed of Inchy's perseverance and stamina. Look at him go, nary a twig or hospital blanket got in his way. Inchy's small hairless hind prolegs drew his posterior body toward the front. And sure enough, ever vigilant Inchy pressed on and followed the motion by extending his posterior legs forward. He didn't go too far and wasn't swift but by golly, Inchy didn't give up. Lo his tiny frame, Inchy never seemed intimidated by his surroundings or his diminutive size. 

One of Inchy's cousins

Henceforth, each time I went to the hospital I headed to the outdoor patio area in search of my little buddy. Never was I concerned with passersby or whether someone figured I was a patient in the mental health ward. I just needed to see Inchy, plain and simple. The Hubs was with me on more than one occasion and yes, he thought I was nuts. 

You also may think of Inchy as a mere moth larvae but he metamorphosed my thinking and ridiculous joy swelled my heart (and I'm not even joking). Inchy inspired me to write, to hope, to trek on life's distances regardless of the time it took or the impossibility of the journey. And with his lime green body, I appreciated the confidence with which he carried his quirky color. 

Although my mother didn't and still doesn't seem to get Inchy's significance, my perspective changed that springtime day. So here's what I'm wondering...have you ever experienced something like this when you see or feel a nudge from God in a most unexpected form? Without saying a word, Inchy reminded me to keep moving in a positive direction. 

The bunny in the window

The most adorable thing I've ever seen
in a hospital gift shop

The ceramic bunny with powder blue overalls, paws tucked in the pockets, longingly looked at me each day from the glass display shelf. No words were needed. We were just two innocent figures in an odd place sharing a kindred desire to escape the confines of the hospital. Neither of us knew when and if that would happen. Maybe he was jealous of me as he stood motionless among the other ceramic rabbits, after all I was in the lobby area and my feet moved swiftly. To be fair though, I was envious of him also. He was in a gift shop, he made people smile and he was among other pretty ceramic friends. I felt uglier and older every time I walked into the hospital. Only once did I venture into the gift shop to lift him up to see if I had the cash to get him sprung. He was $38 and I gently set him back down to return to his post. 

Last pic of the bunny and me

Each day for ten days prior to seeing my mom, I'd go and check on the ceramic bunny with the powder blue overalls. And each time, an internal battle would loom within as I pondered taking him home with me. Did I really want an emblem of my mom's turmoil? What if my mom died here? And even if she didn't, could I one day gaze at the ceramic bunny dwelling in my home and conjure up good sentiments about the whole experience? 

Alas, the decision was taken from me. Here's what happened. 

Oh dear ceramic bunny, what were you thinking?

I had briefly visited the ceramic bunny and gone to my mom's room. She was a disheveled mess and it was as if she had completely given up. Honestly it ticked me off and left to my own druthers, I would have stormed out of the room leaving her to feel sorry for herself.

Yet I couldn't do it. Call it pride that I didn't want people to think I was a bad daughter. Call it love because I truly love the woman. Call it Jesus because He alone gave me strength. But I stayed and I got a stupid wheelchair and pushed my mom down the hallway. I told her we were going to go to the courtyard and I was going to introduce her to my friend at the gift shop. She was nonplussed. 

While on the way, I reminded my mom to lift her head up, open her eyes and speak in full sentences. She needed to engage the world in order to get better. My words were met with limited compliance...I pushed her eagerly to the lobby right up to the glass window.

"Mom, I want to show you the ceramic bunny I've been visiting every day," my voice and pace quickened in excitement as we pulled up to the display.

And this is what I saw less than an hour later - gasp

And you'll never believe what I saw...

Nothing - and the other ceramic bunnies were mum about my special friend's sudden disappearance. 

The ceramic bunny with powder blue overalls was gone. Someone had taken him. How could that be? I had just seen him less than an hour ago! Why did someone steal my joy? Why was he getting to go home and I was still stuck here? Did the ladies in the gift shop think I was such a creeper for taking so many pictures of him that they withdrew that bunny from the stock? Where did he go? Did someone get him for me? Numb would best describe my feelings and I'm being totally honest even if it sounds weird. 

I am home now and the visits to the hospital have stopped. My mom left the hospital a few days later to continue her recovery. I tried attaching myself to another ceramic bunny in the gift shop, one that was more in my price range but it just didn't feel right and that's ok. I did, however, find another little friend in the hospital which I will soon share with you but there is something I need to learn from this experience. 

This other bunny was cute but it wasn't a love connection,
I couldn't replace my old friend that easily

Albeit wistfully, I now see that the ceramic bunny in powder blue overalls as a welcome, temporary diversion to strife. He provided me a creative, silly outlet to express myself each day. We weren't meant to be together but only for a short season of life. The bunny, my mom and I all needed to go to our respective homes and leave this place behind. My mom is getting better and healing in a variety of ways. Thanks for letting me share, dear friends. I always enjoy your thoughts and comments...

Hospitals and hair

Pretty blossoms in the hospital courtyard

Having a good hair day in a hospital seems like a waste. Yesterday I was out in public and would have appreciated a bit of flounce. Today I sit in Room 115, a small, antiseptic space squished in a chair. My hair and I listen to the sounds of my mother wracked with pain and wheezing. My hair displays the life my mother needs more. Stupid tv options, frequent interruptions, feelings of hopelessness, confusion and frustration fill the skull but my pink-streaked hair has vitality. Ironic. Hard to concentrate, don't have medical degree, unclear on every level. Ate homemade soup, heard from friends far and wide. Many praying, offers of support and love cover nearly every state and portions of Central America. Aunt spent the night at the hospital and heard the screams of pain. Oh Jesus. 

Romans 8:26 
Likewise the Spirit helps us 
in our weakness. For we do not know 
what to pray for as we ought, 
but the Spirit himself intercedes for us 
with groanings too deep for words.

When I arrived at the hospital this morning, my aunt's hair was disheveled and if it had a voice, her hair would have stories I just can't hear right now. My mom's hair is sweaty and matted. It needs its owner to get up and wash it and style it. I would even be ok if she used the curling iron and that's saying something. 

Having a good hair day in a hospital seems like a waste, at least it does for me. 

26-50 things I'm thankful for

To continue with my 50 things I'm thankful for:


26. The hubs gave me a rough draft of a book he's creating of all my blog posts from last year. This sweet man has poured hours preparing it and it is a family treasure.

from Charles

27. For the first time in my life, I got a birthday card from Charles. Charles is the quirky alter ego of my orange hair, freckle face OS. Charles spawned an alter ego in me named Charlene. Charles and Charlene speak their own language and have unique accents. No one else in the family really likes Charles and Charlene but we/they have fun together. Thanks Charles!

28. a birthday card announcement from 
my cadet in French and Spanish

29. For my birthday, I also received a beautiful letter from my oldest OS. And, just like Nate, he forgot to sign it! 
30. Thread - I have new thread. Thread makes things happen. Oh yeah.

bibimbap, I prefer mine without the egg

31. We entertained a Korean exchange student during my birthday weekend and she made us bibimbap and other tasty Korean foods. And I've now eaten bracken...you're welcome. 

bracken, fiddleheads, they are edible

32. My soap nuts arrived. I've been using them for two weeks - love them, seriously!
33. I finished a guest blog post - taa daa!
34. At the end of my birthday night, my middle OS Aaron gave me a video of the past year. I cried through the whole thing but only had one big crying snort, it couldn't be helped. 
35. No snow or ice storms on my birthday. For someone born January 27th in the States, those things usually go hand in hand.

a mama of oliveshoots needs olive fabric.
but now what do I do with it? 

36. My road trip to MaryJo's Cloth Store with friends was joyful. Four women in an SUV talking about everything without gossip is a blessing.
37. I bought some 1 1/2 yards of olive fabric. Any suggestions on what a mama of oliveshoots can do with this? 
38. I have three pounds of dried black turtle beans. They are exquisite.

= yum

39. My birthday cake from Blue Moon Bakery - simply divine with raspberry frosting, chocolate mousse filling. And it matched my hair. It's good when your hair matches your cake.

gorgeous made from scratch poundcake

40. But before we enjoyed the bakery cake on Saturday with my extended family on Friday night, a wonderful family friend surprised me with a homemade pound cake she made from scratch. 
41. Ike's team won their game! My orange hair, freckle face OS blazed the court on my b-day!
42. My mom does not have cancer. 
43. Balloons.
44. A singing birthday greeting from my cousin's family. Tis a sweet melody hearing four girls who love the Lord leave a message for me.

45. another birthday announcement from my cadet - in Arabic and English! I'm pretty sure his roommate helped him with the Arabic. 

pj pants for a book lover!

46. I made a pair of pajama pants for one of my two bibliophiles. He's going to wear them during Spirit Week. 
47. Jesus who gave me a redemptive life. 

48. Zumba which is giving me a redemptive body (maybe)...
49. Lou Malnati's pizza from my aunt and uncle shipped from Chicago which necessitates blessing #48!

50. And lastly, another birthday greeting from my Soldier. I know this was no small feat for my OS to do, thank you precious son! 

And it makes me wonder...

It's true, mothering has allowed me 
to blossom as a woman.

I hesitated for a moment when my orange hair, freckle face OS asked me a question during dinner last night.


"Is it ever boring just staying home all day and being a mom?"


No sooner had the words parted from those teenage ruby lips when he profusely apologized for his frankness. Truly Ike has said nastier things to me without a hint of remorse (and been punished for it, thank you very much!) but it was obvious he didn't want to hurt my feelings. 


I think it's an honest question. But what is the correct answer? Here's what I said.


"Sometimes it is boring but that's usually because I'm not doing the things I need to be doing."


It was seven and a half years before traded in my ambitious career goals and embraced the job that had been waiting for me - full-time motherhood.

The day I learned that we were going to be parents! 
Notice the EPT (Early Pregnancy Test) box 
the Hubs is holding! 

So resolute was I to stay in the business world, that upon learning that I was pregnant with my oldest OS, I ordered a TWO YEAR subscription to Working Mother magazine. I remember simultaneously nursing Nate and attempting to have a contract negotiation on the phone only ten days after his birth. But no one was going to change my opinion...not my husband, not my mom, not even my baby.


It took two more children before I figured out that the Lord had divinely appointed me to be a stay-at-home parent. I can be a bit stubborn but I was relentlessly targeted. The voice in my heart told me repeatedly that I was "perfect for the job" even if I couldn't see my qualifications. My Heavenly Father was changing me from the inside out...

Three dudes in suits

I sincerely wrestled about what to do with my life. It wasn't an easy decision as I recall sitting on our eggplant colored couch with the Hubs in the winter of 1998. Bless that man as he listened and encouraged me. I questioned, what if full-time motherhood was boring? What if I hated staying home with the guys? What if I was lonely? What if my brain turned to mush? The Hubs reassured me that it was going to be ok. And he was right. 

Now 13 years later, my youngest OS was lovingly challenging me to take stock at how it's been going for me...this whole stay-at-home mom gig.

When this kid gives this mom flowers "just because"
you have to feel good about yourself! ;)

Although my boys are older, my role as their mom is still important. To have a 21 year old son who while home from West Point brings me a bouquet of flowers "just because" is evidence that I made the right decision. To be appreciated for a pantry filled with food, much of it I prepared, affirms my position in the household. When the world laments for me because I'm a mom of three sons, two of them teenage boys, I scoff at their pettiness for I am among the most blessed. 

Three legos and a football champ!

Yes, my sweet orange hair, freckle face OS, sometimes being a mother has lackluster moments but that happens with any job as you will one day discover. Jesus gave me this exalted opportunity to raise three men of honor and faith and I will forever give him praise. 

Oh and one more thing, I hope I haven't offended anyone,
this is my personal story of transformation
and I realize other people have different mothering journeys. 

PS. I'd love to hear from you. What interesting questions have your children have posed and how you have answered them? 

This mama returns to writing

It's been a while since I last posted on this blog. Happy Thanksgiving! Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! With that in mind, I thought I'd reconnect by answering some not really frequently asked questions:


Where have you been? I've been sewing. From October to December, I made and sold over 50 fabric bowls and over 100 little Scripture pillows.

A fabric bowl that I especially enjoyed making

Thread and material strewn all over the house. As I found myself dressed in clothing (as is the social norm in this suburban town when one goes out in public), I found hundreds of mismatched thread fibers attached to my pants and sweaters. My mother cautiously remarked one day while visiting my home, it looked like the Fabric Fairy had stopped by and thrown up everywhere! From morning till night I was a human sewing MACHINE. 

                             

                          Believe it or not, this was our version of clean for about two months

How is Nate? My oldest OS is recovering marvelously. So well in fact that when he was home from West Point during Thanksgiving, we made a trip to the local airport. We had to pick up the middle OS who was returning from a mission trip to Costa Rica. Nate and I were behind schedule and started to run in the airport. It was then that I noticed he was moving awkwardly. For a second, I thought to myself, "Why is he limping?" and then I remembered, oh yeah, he had SURGERY!


What is the cumulative weight of the average W-H? Well, that's kind of a personal question but, um, ok, since you asked, the garden variety W-H tips the scales at 147 pounds. Some of us want that number to increase, others (who shall remain nameless), are not happy...


Did your family make an annual Christmas ornament video? YES! The timeless tradition continues. Each year the Hubs and I hide the pickle ornament somewhere in our large Christmas tree and then the three OS battle to be the first to find it! Here's the video for your viewing pleasure. Let me know if you can guess who was the vanquisher and who hung his head in shame for the second year in a row. 


Maintaining a blog is difficult but I assert that it serves a purpose in my life, if only to allow me to scribe about life as a blessed, albeit imperfect wife, mother and follower of Christ. 

If you bothered to stop by after all these months, bless you, sweet reader...


more soon!

One foot forward - update on Nate and then some

Fashion footwear for fall? 

There's nothing more annoying than someone stealing your spotlight. Not to be outdone, my tibia decided it was sick and tired of Nate's ACL getting all the attention. So yesterday my left leg became encapsulated in an orthopedic boot for the next three weeks and I'm only to walk a total of one-two hours A DAY. That'll teach Nate and his so-called ACL repair...OY!


Seriously though, my oldest OS is doing so well. The Hubs went to visit him during a business trip and they bravely went to New York City. It's scary enough walking around the Big Apple as an able-bodied person but as you will soon see in this video clip, my OS took on NYC like a BOSS. 

I love how the lady by the curb doesn't even step aside as Nate comes barreling through. Nice. Thank you Mobilegs for making such a great product, your crutches have made such a difference in my son's recovery.

That awkward Cinderella moment
between brothers - the shoe fits!

When Aaron and I were at West Point, I observed brotherly love in a fresh way. Five years ago, almost to the day, Nate had his first ACL surgery. Aaron and Ike attended to Nate in the manner fitting of a then 12 and 10 year old. One of the post-surgery highlights was when the two guys competed each day to see which brother could collect the most wee-wee from the urinal. Such a proud mommy moment.


Thankfully everyone has matured. My orange haired, freckle face almost 15 year old stayed behind for driver's ed but loaded up a box of treats for Nate replete with a funny card. He spoke to him regularly and showed sincere concern.

Just moments before saying goodbye

It was my middle OS that displayed such a servant's heart, I found myself nearly thankful for Nate's injury. When Nate's surgery was scheduled first thing in the morning, Aaron cheerfully awakened to join me at the hospital. Anything Nate needed, Aaron offered to help. Anything I needed, Aaron was equally joyful to do. Fill Nate's ice machine, get him fresh water, fluff his pillows, Aaron literally poured himself out to his brother and he was remarkably patient with me. My boy sacrificed his own Fall break to help Nate and then only three days after getting home from New York, Aaron was the patient. He had wisdom teeth surgery!

Final pics of Aaron's wisdom teeth

It's not the best quality picture but I captured a tender moment when it was time to say goodbye. Of course, the lacrimal glands were activated as I hugged my boy's neck. We had had such a treasured time together. There was another WP mom picking up her son by Grant turn-around and she wiped tears from her eyes at the sight. 

Aaron carrying his big brother's laundry and
stuff as Nate crutches back to life at West Point.
Yes, I was crying.  

But then I really lost it as Aaron accompanied Nate to the barracks. Nate was limping along on his Mobilegs as Aaron carried Nate's stuff back to his room. Two beautiful, godly young men and brothers displaying love and gratitude. They are there for each other. They share joy and sorrow, struggles and success. Neither distance, nor disability of any kind or length, nor differences will separate my three OS from each other. Ever. Let it be so. 

my AWESOME oliveshoots