Aidan is in the bath singing loudly, "We beat the Cardinals! We beat the Brewers!" in a sort of military chant. He is playing T-ball this year, his first season. He is so proud to have his own "A's" hat and shirt, to be able to talk baseball to his older brothers in the back of the Suburban, and has been heard to say quietly to himself in odd moments, "Hit the ball -- drop the bat-- and run!" his self-talk echoing the directions of his coach.
He is a testament to perseverance and victory, not just his own but that of so many doctors and friends and relatives who interceded for him in so many ways.
Nicole and her family are still on my mind. Praying for them... a little embarrassed by the post I made about my dream last night -- I wrote it before 5 am while still chilled by how real it seemed. It looks a bit jumbled now that I'm more awake and reflecting more on the reality that family is living through, while my life returns to normal. I'll let it stand though. A friend of mine told me once that night-time awakenings were her bell to pray for my child -- once again, the communion of saints seems very real and mysterious to me.
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