I'm freaking out a little over a friend of mine who is very, very ill. I just sent Owen and Ernie off to deliver of dinner for them and am trying to mastermind getting others to contribute. It's not much work but I feel better trying to do SOMETHING. The other day I was talking to Ernie about it and I exclaimed that they, this couple who I have known since I was all 19 or 20, were like family. I said, "I know that family starts out with parents and siblings but...." And he just nodded at me, because he understands my heart, and said, "but your family changes." I was so grateful that he understood. And I am so grateful for all who, in addition to my beloved sister Debbie, make up my family. My odd little Sandwich Life family.
I need to go back into the kitchen and do some more cooking for another friend. Last night, as I chatted about that, Owen rolled over on the couch and dipped his head toward the floor in a teenage boy kind of way, saying, "why are we so good to people?" I told him it was because they were part of our family, and "besides," I said, "once you've gone through a hard time and someone has shown you an unexpected kindness, you want to always pass that along, because you realize how much it means---even if you can't thank them properly at the time." He nodded and seemed to understand.
I love my boys.
I love my family.
All of you.
And here's another member of the family, Rascal, asleep on Owen's messy desk as he waits for Owen to get sleepy and go to bed.