Monday, March 11, 2013

A Year Ago Today

This is the first in a collection seemingly mundane events that proved that, for a time, life was deliciously normal. Nothing earth-shattering. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just life. Normal life.

March 11

A year ago today I taught Sunday School. It was the 3-year-old class and three students showed up. Two of the three were named Addison. I remember this because I told them how easy it was going to be for me to remember their names because I had an Addison too.

I don't remember much about the lesson. OK, I don't remember anything about the lesson. I wasn't the regular teacher. Just a sub who filled in from time to time. I do remember we played with Play-Doh. At the last minute I shoved a bunch of it into my purse because I had a sneaking suspicion the two-page leaflet I was supposed to cover wasn't exactly going to take us a whole lot of time. So we rolled rocks and boulders and pancakes and snakes. Yes, snakes.

After Sunday School it was church. Isaac came out of his classroom. Then Addie. Scott and Tripp arrived a few minutes later. We grabbed a bulletin and a seat. Like always, one on the right side, one that provided easy access to an exit in the probable event that someone would need to go pottie or take a time out.

"Can I sit with my friends?" Addie asked.

You might think I spent a whole lot of time debating this question. I didn't. I just gave one of those looks that said, "you better behave, be quiet, or else (horrors) you're going to have to come back and sit with us."

A year ago today I watched as Addie settled in next to two of her friends. I watched as one friend's older sister (the one who had been put in "charge" of the trio) gave them a look that mirrored mine.  I watched them giggle and I watched them scribble notes and pictures back and forth. I watched the older sister try to keep her composure.

And now I really want to know:  what were they giggling about?

I remember wanting to ask that day, but I didn't. Nine years old. Almost 10. Time for a little independence. Privacy. This, I thought, is just a preview of what's to come.

What's to come?

As if we had any clue.

Every once in awhile I'll come across a sheet from a
Scribble Card for Little Lutherans note pad shoved deep
into the pockets of the diaper bag or hidden at the
bottom of one of Addie's drawers.


  1. I just read through every post on your blog and am a better person for it. You have a beautiful family, beautiful soul, beautiful precious Addie. Your story and your strength are impacting others and helping people, I know it. You are the epitome of what everyone should strive to live like - bless you and your family.

  2. I think i was the older sister you were talking about! Those girls were trying to get me to talk to the cute boy sitting in front of us! They had so much fun pushing my buttons! :)
    Ally Mead

    1. Yes, Ally. You were the older sister. Thanks for letting me know what all the giggling was about!