have more _____ (dinner, swim, yard, supper) parties!

Do wonders never cease? This goal is working out well. My husband and I hosted a day-long/into the night swim~yard party for 1/2 his family on Saturday. It was great fun: ribs/wings/dogs and all sorts of yummy side-dishes from south of the M/D. The kids swam, swung, played basketball and chased each other around the yards with water guns. Good times!

Tonight I invited my green-card friend and her visiting English sister over for supper downstairs. The kids swam and we gossiped, I learned all about rugby and we had yummy beers and pizza. Good times w/the chicks from across the pond!

I’m constantly thinking of new reasons to have get togethers, yet rarely actually do them, and or it just doesn’t work out to where people show up…haha. Definitely a great goal for the year, or at least the summer.

Game night tomorrow night at my apartment. Yay.

We’re making it a ritual. We meet at the track, run a few miles while the kids entertain themselves w/scooters, light sabers and basketballs and then, head to our house to jump in before heading home. We decided this was a good idea when we realized that after our weekly ‘group run,’ we were all so hot, sweaty, nasty, worn out, miserable . . . that we needed some refreshment. By the end of our run the kids have normally found their way to the water spigot, unwound the hosepipe and are spraying each other anyway so the pool is the next logical progression.

We’re making this a Thursday night thing. Husbands . . . fend for yourselves!

My sister-in-law, niece and mother-in-law came for hotdogs, sun and swimming on Sunday after church. That counts!

It really WAS a splendid party. Kids, animals, laughter, boat drinks, bonfire, ducks, lawn chairs, hotdogs, beer . . . what more could a 41-year-old hot chick ask for?

A post more about grief and recovering than about a party . . . but there was a party none-the-less and it was FUN!!!!

All throughout the day I thought of the call that would not come, the voice that I have longed for, the ring I would not hear . . . my JPL with this ‘Happy Birthday Chicken’ mantra.

I struggled all weekend, to keep my mind from the panic place . . . the forbidden nether-spots where my thoughts sometimes wander off to . . . when I am reflective. I breezed past Josh memories, talked through songs about loved ones lost . . . and avoided the new shared scrapbook filled with page after page after page of smiling, grinning, completely carefree, darling photos. On days like these (which come more often than I’d like) I know my limitations and simply do not ‘go there.’

We celebrated my bday at Eddie’s Attic, at a fundraiser for suicide prevention. It was fitting but sad and bittersweet but hopeful too, like a passage into this my 41st year. My mind flittered back and forth, throughout the day . . . thinking of times past and of friends and family, lost and found.

What an ODD day it was. One of my dearest college friends, who I’d not seen in 20 years, joined us at Eddie’s in celebration of Josh’s memory and my birthday. To Ang, Josh was still just the little toddling something, tugging on shirt tails and giggling up storms. He is still that way to me too.

I spent my evening with my closest friends (and my darling Lissa & Carmen) around a bonfire in the yard. We took the kids to the lake for a duck-feeding expedition and across to the vacationing neighbor’s pond to feed the koi. The kids played in the yards, chased the cat, rode bikes, wore out the playset and stuck brave 5-year-old feet into the cold end of the pool . . . all this the perfect complement to my boy’s many renditions of ‘Happy Birthday.’

For me: good friends, old music, children’s laughter, hoola-hooping, boat drinks, stunt shows in the drive and the fire were enough. One might think that 41 would call for more dancing, louder banter, wilder music, more beer—but not tonight. The day’s mix was just about perfect with a splash of pineapple juice and a blender concoction for good measure. I was careful, oh so careful. Today was happy but a reflective and bittersweet day; more than just a couple frosty umbrella thingies could have sent me to the panic place in nothing flat. Not tonight though, not today . . . not now.

Around my neck, dangling on a silver thread-like chain is possibly, the most beautiful gift I’ve ever received; my darling, thoughtful friend’s tribute to a boy much loved and our friendship much increased: A silver circle, like-unto a life-saver, inscribed with words so close to my heart: Love you most and best and always . . . with the subtle but powerful after-thought of JPL on the reverse. The gift, the summation of a day that, but for the tinges of sadness and memories of yesterday, was just about, almost, so very close to being . . . perfect.

As midnight approached and the strains of ‘Precious Jesus’ drifted up from my husband’s Saturday night radio. . . I was reminded, yet again (as always) that . . . no matter what, in spite of everything, from this day forward . . . I’ll see him when I get there and how precious THAT will be.

Because we didn’t celebrate my 40th last year, because I have out-of-town guests coming in and because I want to . . . I’m planning a little something for the end of April. Not sure what exactly. If the weather will warm up and the husband will put the solar cover on . . . we might swim. Otherwise, I’m thinking bon-fire, dogs and burgers on the grill and lots and lots of cold beer. We’ll see. Just for safety’s sake, we’ll file this under ‘yard’ party and see how it pans out.