Ok mom, so you know what's awesome?...

David. This was the beginning of his description of his birthday week at school. It's birthday week here. J and D. A year has passed. Interesting what got written. So much did not. I'm not sure what to do about that except to see and think and move forward.
Do you know what's awesome? Driving to Bear Lake in 2010 with the 4 kids in the truck and listening to them sing John Denver songs like one should - at the top of their lungs.
There was a trip from California to Utah that I remember so well. It could have been last Wednesday. I remember Rich got out of the car to pay for gas I think. While he was gone for just a minute, I missed him. I realized for a second that I wanted him to come back. He got in the car and I rested. He sang John Denver songs at the top of his lungs for 609 miles. I didn't like John Denver - had no intention of falling in love with a boy who liked John Denver. And there I was, hoping this boy would always come back to me. That was the first inkling that I had that we may be doing this for a while. That summer he took me to a John Denver concert in Park City and we both sang at the top of our lungs. We went to Bear Lake that summer. To the cabin. I met uncles and aunts and cousins. I slept in a small bed with his sisters and laughed myself to sleep. I'm certain we listened to more John Denver on the way and back, and Rich probably wore that blue and green flannel shirt that I loved to nestle in so much. And that Ford Mustang. There wasn't room in that car for kids. But there is room in the truck. There is room for four. Exactly. And they've arrived. They sing. They love John Denver. And they love the cabin. They play in the sand and play with cousins and they bring me colored leaves and they get cold and nestle in and we laugh at scrabble and sit and stare at each other. And they keep coming back. They get in the truck every time. They fill up my senses. And I can't believe that there are moments that I don't soak in. There are. But I hope I've stopped to listen to the singing often enough that I'll hear it in my head when they aren't in my kitchen anymore. I hope they sing it in someone else's car and some day there will be more little ones tromping through the house singing at the top of their lungs.... I can't wait. Know what's awesome? Time.