On My Mind
On Sunday, my husband took Carson, 3, to the store after he threw an enormous tantrum in front of my in-laws–a tantrum that lasted, oh, about 3 hours–and they returned with a big bouquet of flowers, above. From Carson. To mama. It melted my heart.
I’ve been thinking a lot about Carson these days. How he’s so passionate. So emotional. So intense. My mom says that the odd years (as in 1, 3, 5 and 7) are the hardest years in parenting. I tend to agree. Did I mention that I also have a 1 year old? I don’t mind if you feel sorry for me right now. It is a wild life. But, P.S. I love it. And, P.P.S. 2 and 4 have to be easier, right? Please say yes!
So, with the excitement of finishing a novel–a novel I am proud of and believe in (this is weird, but my characters have started to feel like friends–I can’t believe I just typed that!)–this has been an eventful month. Yet, this week, I got some news that made all of it seem insignificant ….
One of my best friends called me on Monday morning to tell me that her 1 year old son has a brain tumor. A brain tumor. They are fighting for his life. Fighting hard. And we are hopeful that he will prevail, that dear baby boy. I have been weeping and grieving since I set the phone down that morning. The truth is, it’s hard to go on with life as normal after hearing news like this. When someone you love hurts, you hurt. It’s just how it is.
If you believe in prayer, please pray. His name is Cash. And he’s precious.