When someone dies, I suppose it’s natural to think back on conversations you had – or wish you’d had – with that person. I remember vaguely some of the stories that my Granddaddy told me about his life, American history, etc. How I would love to sit on his knee and listen more intently now! I remember my Aunt Clydie’s interest in my time in China and how supportive she was of me. I wish we could talk today about life and faith.

I’ve recalled many a conversation with Nathan since he died – especially from our childhood/teen years, but one came to mind today that made me chuckle. When we would argue (which was often), he liked to snap: “I wish I was an only child or you were a brother!” and I would respond with something like: “I wish I had a sister and not a bratty brother!” and we’d go back and forth in similar fashion. One of my fall-back retorts was: “I hope you grow up and have three bratty little boys JUST LIKE YOU!”

This conversation replayed in my head earlier today, and I couldn’t help but chuckle aloud. Oh, the poetic justice … the irony of it all! Sometimes you just have to laugh at how life zig-zags in ways you never could have imagined. To think: God isn’t surprised by any of it. That gives me comfort. It may feel like chaos on my end, but I’m not the One in control, am I?  😉

Today felt a little less like having company over at the house and a little more like “home” with all five boys. It’s a good feeling. Someone told me today that Nathan would be proud. I hope so, and I trust he knows that I was kidding about him having bratty little boys … ok, ok, maybe partly kidding!  :p