Week 37

The mornings are chilly, and the ever-later sunrise makes it just slightly less excruciating to open our eyes so very early on school mornings. Routine is in full swing, and everyone seems to be holding their own with it. Humidity has died down with the traffic, and our town is our own again.

This coming week will bring fall to us, and with it crisp air, vats of soup, the inexplicably soothing sounds of televised football, adventure season, and I can only pray, restoration. It was just over a year ago that our worlds came crashing down around us, and some pieces have continued to fall and crumble over that year.

But we survived. And the end of a non-stop, memory-full, ridiculously hot summer means that we've made it another season, still alive and kicking. Or maybe kicking and screaming, which is how we've been dragged into this wretched wisdom-building stretch of life. It hasn't been easy. And the advent of fall doesn't mean it's going to get any easier.

Though eventually I know it will, one way or another. Restoration will come. Meanwhile, they are our joy. Boy joy.