…I know they got plenty of young blood left in ‘em and plenty nights under pink skies you taught ‘em to enjoy…
Pink skies, carnival lights, smiles, smells, laughter, sticky fingers, mini donut fueled chaos, certainty they could beat the rigged game system, lemonade pucker, tired feet, the crowds, the sounds, the memories, the future memories, one more ride, one more game…one more memory.
Knowing you’re experiencing one of those “good ol’ days” as it’s happening is priceless.
Days like this become part of who they are later in life and that’s the whole point.
Someday when they remember this day I know from experience they will ache to experience it all again.
Childhood and parenthood are such a wild parallel experience. My only job yesterday was making their day feel magical. Turn a regular day into something beautiful. My heart is full knowing I succeeded.
The most perfect, almost moody skies, a melancholy hint rolling in with the waves. The insistence of the breeze. The silent yet deafening reminder that joy is in the ride even when the sun hides.
Sitting here watching Jacob’s childhood happen in real time is beautiful, specifically because it is fleeting, imperfect, and deeply felt everyday. I’m consciously choosing to keep seeing the beauty in all of it while simultaneously carrying grief, hope, memories, and love.
The grief of my parents being gone, the anticipatory grief of knowing how soon Jacob will become too grown up for spontaneous beach days. The grief of my own failures and aging.
The love I have for my family, my friends, my life.
The memories of my life lived thus far.
Reminding myself every day to soak in the ordinary joy, the ordinary miracles. Stand in the waves, eat the fries, exist freely in the moment. Take up space.
The only way to get through any of this is with quiet resilience, nostalgia, maternal love, and knowing in my heart that healing doesn’t always look happy…sometimes it just looks like showing up for a beautiful afternoon even if the wind blows or the sky is a little moody.
I’ve made peace with the tiny letdowns and decided they still get a seat at the table.
Today I left the house without my phone, my coffee went cold, the mixed color bouquets were gone by the time I got to the stand for subscription pick up. I squished the fancy pastries from the quiet little bakery. The tiny bookstore didn’t have the book I wanted. It rained.
Delicious disappointments my friends!
There’s something kind of grounding about it: • coffee went cold → still good, just different.
• squished the pastry before I got a photo → still tasted like sweet perfection. • plans shift → still a fun day, just not the one I planed and pictured. • Bandit chewed the wrong paw → other one still healing, just… with attitude and a zillion dollars in wound wrap supplies!
This is not denial, it’s not forcing positivity…it’s more like: yeah, that’s not ideal… but I’m still here with it. And sometimes these moments end up being the ones that feel the most real. Quiet moments like sitting under a blanket, rain outside, Bandit half-asleep on me, scrolling with cold coffee beside me… Nothing dramatic, nothing perfect just full, real life. The truth is (if we’re being honest) life is a little messy, a little funny, a little soft, a little hard and somehow still really good ☕
I’m just embracing it… the delicious disappointment aesthetic 🌷☕ • tulips I wouldn’t of picked as my first choice that should be in a nice vase… living their best beautiful life in a Starbucks cup. • rainy windshield, grey sky… but soft light. • truck interior, a little messy, a little real. • something pretty just casually existing in the middle of ordinary life. Nothing curated. Nothing trying too hard.
Thats where I’ve settled.
The reality is the tulips aren’t even fully open yet… they’re just… on their way. That’s kind of a whole refreshing vibe, isn’t it? Not perfect. Not finished. Not “Pinterest ready.” But still: • alive • soft • a little unexpected • quietly lovely
That’s where I’m at. I’m tired of striving for perfection. I’m tired of not embracing and living in the moment. I’ve settled and it’s gloriously freeing.
A small, gentle thing… sitting in a place that doesn’t match… and somehow making the whole moment better anyway.
I didn’t fix it or think “ugh I need a proper vase” I made a decision that “this works”… it’s beautiful and it’s enough for now. And that my friends is the whole philosophy.
because calorie don’t count when your heart has to wait 7-10 days for a lab report!
Bandit slept well throughout the night. I had to adjust her bandage as it was too tight with the swelling. Once we got that fixed up and her paw circulation returned to good we both dozed off.
My Dad always warned me about tying my wellbeing to an animal (2 or 4 legged). I guess now in my mid 40’s I understand what he meant. But honestly I’m not sorry. I know I’m definitely more feelings driven than many people. I know the heartbreak that comes with loving someone/something so deeply but I also know the joy. I know that no matter how this journey progresses I will never have regrets over bringing this beautiful (anxious, health problematic, bossy,EXPENSIVE) hound into our family. Bandit showed up when I needed her the most and she got me through those excruciatingly long, lonely days when my Dad’s dementia raged the worst. Her soft ears and warm hound squish offered moments of decompression for my exhausted, overwhelmed brain and my broken heart. Shes a living, breathing hound scented weighted blanket!
Sometimes I think Mom and Muffin hand picked her for me. The perfect mix of love and wild anxiety. They sent me a 4 legged version of me! Which is both beautiful and gut wrenchingly horrific!!!
This dog is 1/3 of my whole world. She means everything to me and I want the absolute best for her. I know in my heart that may not end up looking like what I’d planned for but whatever the next page of this journey looks like we will get through it together. Hand in paw! 🐾 💕
4018…. The number of days you’ve lived your life thus far….
In big loud ways and in quiet meaningful ways. Every day lends itself to you becoming the young man before us. Every experience you have is a lesson. Every lesson shapes who you are. Every moment this world is a better place because you’re in it. Remember to be true to you. Continue to be kind. Hold your head high with honour. Know you cannot please everyone all the time and that’s ok. Just continue to be you because you’re more than enough.
I’m spending today reliving moments of you in my mind. The moment they put you on my chest. The moment you laughed your first laugh. Your first terrifying steps. Your first day of school. Your first curse word. The first time my heart sank as you stepped foot on that 50 yard line. The fist time I watched your tiny heart break. The first time I let you venture out into this world without me by your side. My phone number sharpied on your arm! The first time you outsmarted me. The first time you protected me. The first time you walked away from someone who hurt you. The first time you showed the world what you’re made of. Every one of those moments rendered me speechless and so very proud of you.
Every day I watch as you grow up a little more. A far cry from that hospital room at 7:14 pm. That tiny little miracle with my name on his wrist. You were new to town and everyone was eager to meet you. Not much has changed because those who know you want to be near you. You make people feel seen and loved. You are wise beyond your years. You don’t run from the scary things, you handle them with grace. You hold your hand out to help others find their way through the dark. You still get that sly little smile when you’re up to no good. You know the meaning of home in a deep sense that many much older than you don’t grasp.
You are everything this world needs, you’re everything that is right in my world.
You’re kind, brave, and loyal.
Go on… take on this whole world! But remember you’ll always be my Baby boo bear. I can’t turn back time but you’ll always be my baby boy.
Jacob…. It’s the end of a decade but the start of an age (Don’t roll your eyes…I had to)
I love you more than words could ever express. You’re my greatest accomplishment. You’re my greatest love.
Today marks 3 years since you’ve been gone and honestly that day still feels like yesterday. Don’t get me wrong I’ve “moved on” like you always demanded but the 19 day period of January between your birthday and the day you left sits heavily on my chest each year. It’s hard to breathe, it’s hard to find the willingness to go about my day. Honestly it’s the darkest two weeks of my year. Maybe in time I’ll find a way to lighten it but for now I still let myself feel it. I sit with it quietly and drink a lot of coffee like you would have.
I think of you every day and frequently tell the boys how you would react to their hilariousness… that’s my nice way of saying stupidity! We talk about you a lot. They miss you. We all miss you. You’d be so proud of all of them. I sometimes picture you tossing the football with Jacob and enjoying hockey with Ej. I sometimes close my eyes and see you on the couch with Ella and Emma cuddled on either side. This is how I see you in my heart… love and happiness surround you.
I keep these moments by and by because it’s the only way I keep my missing you from crushing my chest the other days of the year.
Sometimes I catch you out of the corner of my eye. In the hallway, in the kitchen, in the yard. I know you hang around the house. Please don’t ever stop visiting. The driveway alarm lets me know.
Life With The McGavins 