The Difference of a Year

It’s been a year since Daytime Brother moved to Vegas. I threw myself into teaching music in a language I don’t speak, for free, and running all the PTA fundraisers, was in charge of the children’s spiritual education at church, and grew my piano studio to cover the money I was no longer making watching him. It’s been a very busy year. Sometimes when I look back I can’t it only has been a year.

Yesterday Janel called to tell me that they were in town longer than she had planned, and could we go over and play? We happily obliged.

It was so sweet to see those three boys get down on the floor playing trains as though not a day had passed since the last time we all got down and played trains. Of all the things we did in the two and a half years that he was a part of our family, we probably played trains the most. Seeing them together doing that again was so heartwarming. Seeing them playing so nicely together, no wierdness, no “where have you been?” or “I’ve moved on.”

Of course, not everything is the same. They are all older now. They are more coordinated, more verbal, more equipped to share the beloved trains, or to compromise when they run their trains into each other. After a year of not playing together, the play was so easy.

And if the playdate with old friends wasn’t good enough, we ended it with some night swimming at the top of the hill, overlooking Glendale and Burbank, watching the sun set and the lights twinkle.

Sunset Swimming


One Response to The Difference of a Year

  1. feathersky says:

    What a sweet playdate!

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