Stand Down

We were all in such a state Friday that when his mum texted me this picture of our five-year-old grandson asleep and 'armed'  I felt a literal stab in my heart. The words accompanying the text: "He turned on his light and fell asleep on the floor with his stick. Protecting the house, he says."Last week had so much woe in it. The moments like the one I first had on seeing message make only a small example. At the same time though there was also joy in our house:My husband came home  after four days away. And our daughter Carrie, the mother of this little boy, came home to her family. (She and my husband David were together on a business trip.)And most iimportantly these two new parents, as much a part of our family as the children we 'made,' were at ast allowed to leave Brigham & Women's Hospital here in Boston where they were held on lockdown on that awful Monday with their newly-arrived babe.Here are some pictures of that joyful homecoming  (Oh! and I should probably  add that 30 minutes after I first got that text about this little boy sleeping with his weapon, his mom texted again to explain that he sleeps with a stick every night in his self-imposed role as 'family protector'. He knew nothing of the events transpiring in Cambridge and Watertown.)Below here are some images:First, the note the brand-new parents wrote to the staff at Brigham & Women's followed by images of them at their house, which was decorated by  two loving friends.Here we see the first of thousands of 'carseat extractions' followed by the actual homecoming:"Papa' seemed like an old hand at this already when Carrie and I went to visit them near week's end.and here finally is 'Aunt' Carrie, holding her new niece for the very first time..

Joy abounding!

We Bostonians

This weekend the days spooled out like satin ribbon, and for once we all let it spool.We watched the Red Sox.We watched the Celtics.We watched the Bruins.There were some losses but that was all fine by us.Things seemed almost back to normal, that is for us lucky ones with our health.I lay on my back and read about books about the 19th century.I made a shopping list, then never went to the store.At last and hesitantly recorded the week's events in my diary..And, by this lake where we come some weekends, gratefully and prayerfully, I watched as the light billowed and faded and the holy night came on.