Chasing Time

Monday morning.

Friday night was game night.

And conversation.

We played.

We laughed.

We switched games after Rale ended his stream and somehow stayed up talking until after 2 AM.

I love these people.

The hard part was realizing that I needed to be awake again just a few hours later.

Swimming lessons were waiting.

The swim lessons are officially done.

The older three are absolutely ready for the next level.

Truth be told, they were probably ready before the class even started.

But a little reinforcement never hurts.

Asher is close.

Very close.

I am convinced he can do it.

I think the rest is on me.

More time in the water.

More confidence.

More practice.

We'll get there.

Sleep, however, did not get there.

Friday night rolled directly into Saturday morning.

No sleep.

Straight into swim lessons.

Straight into the drive.

Straight into the day.

The nap came later.

Briefly.

Then another game night.

Another good conversation.

Another reminder that some people are worth being tired for.

But before that second game night could really begin, Jacob needed me.

He has been diligently keeping a journal for more than a year now.

Most nights, after everyone goes to bed, he spends thirty minutes writing about his day.

Lately, with everything we have had going on, he had fallen behind.

When he asked for help catching up, there were tears.

Not because he couldn't do it.

Not because he was confused.

Because he felt like he had let himself down.

So we sat together.

We talked.

We remembered.

One day at a time.

One entry at a time.

One memory at a time.

An hour later he was caught up.

Back on track.

Smiling.

Ready for bed.

And proud of himself again.

Which was really the point all along.

When I finally crawled into bed Saturday night, I passed out almost immediately.

Six hours of sleep.

The most sleep I had gotten in months.

I still woke up tired Sunday.

Turns out exhaustion has momentum.

But we made it to church.

For the first time in quite a while.

Between the illness that has been camped in our house for over a month and the chaos of our schedules, it simply had not happened.

This week it did.

The rest of the weekend belonged to Asher.

Eight years old.

Somehow.

The last eight years feel like a blink.

One minute he was learning to walk.

The next he's reading, singing, drawing, and becoming his own person.

Time has never asked my permission to move this quickly.

I'm proud of who he is becoming.

Curious.

Creative.

Kind.

Still figuring out who he wants to be.

Good.

There is no rush.

The journey of becoming yourself is worth taking slowly.

And no matter who he becomes, I'll love him just as much as I love the boy he is today.

Today there is a brief pause in all the room work.

Not a stop.

Just a pause.

Because tomorrow the work starts again.

Jacob and Asher's room is next.

Tape.

Paint.

New curtain rods.

New curtains.

New beds.

Moving day.

If we want to stay on schedule, that room needs to be ready by the end of the week.

The house is slowly transforming one room at a time.

Much like everything else around here.

My wife and Zoey are headed back to Richmond.

Doctor appointments.

Continued monitoring.

Continued searching for answers connected to her craniosynostosis.

Another reminder that our story never really fit the simple narrative that many cranio families are given.

"See you on the other side."

For some families that works.

For us, there never really was another side.

There was only forward.

One appointment at a time.

One answer at a time.

One question at a time.

After that comes an in-person violin lesson.

Then the race back home.

Because tonight is David's final baseball game of the season.

Meanwhile, I will have all three boys.

Working.

Managing school.

Keeping life moving.

All from my office.

It should be an adventure.

Then we leave around 5:30.

Grab dinner.

Head to the field.

And watch one more game.

Somewhere in all of this, I am preparing to start streaming again.

The button gets pressed this week.

Current plan:

Tuesday and Thursday evenings.

Saturday afternoons once life settles down a little.

After all the PC migrations.

The rebuilds.

The cleanup.

The endless preparation.

It is time.

My wife and I stayed up late again last night talking.

Faith.

Questions.

Growth.

The kind of conversations that happen when you marry your best friend.

Nothing is wrong.

Quite the opposite.

We are growing.

Learning.

Exploring.

Trying to understand things together.

One of the benefits of marrying your best friend is that you can talk about anything.

One of the drawbacks is that those conversations sometimes last until 2 AM.

Just like the conversations with Rale.

Neither one of us seems particularly good at ending them.

Maybe that is what life really is.

Not grand accomplishments or perfect plans.

Maybe it is simply choosing who gets your time.

A son needing help with his journal.

A daughter preparing for a recital.

A wife sitting beside you asking difficult questions.

Friends keeping you up far too late because the conversation is too good to end.

Time keeps moving whether we want it to or not.

The best we can do is spend it on the people who matter.

This is a grounded moment where the older I get, the more I realize that time is the only thing we ever really spend.

Much love. Stay safe. Wash your damn hands. I'll see you Wednesday.