Jason and Rhiannon were off tonight--he to a fun retirement party for a friend, and she to a long drum line practice. So Wade and I pigged out on junk food and watched a few Office shows (yes, re-runs of re-runs), and then he started playing a video game and I read a couple posts from a new blog I like called Hands Free Mama.
After reading her most recent post, about her family's final goodbye to her husband's grandfather, something snapped inside me. The author also posted a line from a new Ed Sheeran song--"a life with love is a life that's been lived." I almost threw my phone across the room and ran outside. The sun had just set. I moved some chairs around and invited Wade to come join me.
And for a few minutes, it was just me and the boy, and the lovely night sky changing to darker shades of blue and then black, talking about Drake the rap star and clean song versions and a favorite date that Jason and I did doing a similar activity (watching the night sky) and how our stake president had taken a photo of the Milky Way the other evening, visible in our desert sky. Oh, and how the first album I ever bought was Whitney Houston's debut album, on cassette tape, and I listened to it over and over and over again and memorized the whole thing. In my dorky-mom way, I tried to let that boy of ours know that I understood how important music was to him, too.
It was just a moment. But it made my heart sing with love for Wade and the gratitude I feel being his mom.