The old song is true: What a difference a day makes! The sun comes out, a baby is born, luck takes a turn (we hope for the better), moods lift. But looking back over 365 days can stop you in your tracks – so much to process.
One year ago, Baby Silas was in his first 24 hours.
A year later, he’s running around, dancing, beginning to talk, and recreationally fighting with Sylvia.
A year ago Annabelle and Sylvia were straddling the baby/toddler line. Today they’re little girls, chattering up a storm.
Jude continues to grow like a weed – he’s a good big brother, alternating between being protective and being a pest. That’s what brothers are for, I think. Never had one of my own, but from what I’ve seen …
Little Luke, at almost a year and a half, is a cuddly clown – he loves to laugh and is quite a flirt. He runs more than walks and knows instinctively how to dial a Fisher-Price retro rotary phone, even though he’s never seen a real rotary phone.
A year ago, we were still reeling and angry from Bill’s sudden death; today we can see the signs it was coming, though I’m still angry that he got caught up in and was tortured by the medical-industrial complex in his dwindling days, until we said enough was enough.
Mother was in shock, in poor health and recovering from a back surgery we weren’t sure would hold. A year later, she’s the incredible shrinking dynamo. Her health has worsened but her back has survived two falls and her spirits are good. She’s sold her house in the outback and is downsizing to a smaller home in town with a lake in her backyard.
A year ago I was freelancing – today I’m working my rear off at a fun job that allows me to drop everything when family duty calls.
A day ago I was so tired I thought I might never blog again – it’s almost time to renew my website and I’ve been thinking I’d let it drop – then this morning I woke up with this basically written in my head.
The jury’s still out on continuing, but, again, what a difference a day makes.