The big boy was under the weather this morning, and though it’s non-life threatening end-of-cold yuckiness and he probably could have gone to school, he seemed to just need some time and space and love. He spent a good bit of the morning reading in bed, ate some good sore throat kinds of snacks like Jell-o and popsicles, and was allowed to wear his favorite camouflage pants with the hole near the crotch that makes them unfit for school.
And then, because sometimes you just need to see your closest friend, I packed him into the car and off we went to trek up the snowy 1/4-mile driveway and spend several hours with his homeschooling buddies and their mom, my dear, treasured friend Sigrid. With no little brother to make mischief, the three boys could play “big kid” games like Mille Bornes and Blokus, and Sigrid and I indulged in the sort of long, shallow, deep, meandering conversation you can only have with your closest friends. She’s been gone on and off for the past few months, dealing with illness and death in the family, and we’ve only seen each other in passing. We’ll have so many more conversations about who and how and where she is now, and where we’re going, and how to make sense of everything. But for now, sitting in her sunny kitchen, sipping hot coffee and listening to boys giggling in the other room, connecting–that was enough. More than enough.