The Flower Bush

So, our extended weekend away was really quite wonderful. Just what the doctor ordered.

Here's a summary of our favorite things:

• The girls pampered ourselves with an afternoon of mani/pedis.
• We laughed as we splashed and played at the Aquatic Center.
• We cuddled up on a FABULOUSLY comfy sectional for family naps everyday.
• We thoroughly enjoyed Tuacahn's production of "Little Mermaid" (seriously love it).
• We made many memories at Snow Canyon hiking and playing trucks in the "big dirts" (aka Sand Dunes).
• And we savored creamy frozen frozen custard at one of our favorite shops. Delish.

All in all, the rest, relaxation, and recreation refueled and refreshed our souls. It. Was. Divine.

While playing in the "dirts" Saturday afternoon, I was taught a lesson by The Great Teacher. As I watched my children play in the sand with their adoring Daddy, my heart ached. I just. felt. empty. We weren't complete! Someone was missing! Ashton wasn't supposed to be playing cars by himself. Granted David and I were by his side but - let's face it - a parent is just NOT a brother. Period.

Anyhoo, as my kids were building sandcastles and I circled around snapping pictures, I literally stumbled upon this Flower Bush. Small, tender and budding yellow, it was quite the surprise juxaposed against the red desert sand. Where did it come from? How did it get there? How did it sustain life? It was quite the mystery.

And yet there it was, standing tall, acting as reminder of Life amid the toughest conditions. As beautiful as the red rocky landscape was, the contrast of the yellow made it all the more breathtaking.

Curious.

I thought about our Sunshine Boy. I remembered all the bright, sweet, joyful times that we shared. I remembered all the laughs, giggles, snuggles and songs.

And then I thought about the last 9 months. The Desert of our lives.

We have been nourished by the rain. We have learned to build sandcastles in the most arid conditions. And - through it all - our Little Flower Bush has stood by, looking all the more beautiful against the harshness of the conditions. How grateful we are for his immortality.

And so I will remember. I will rememeber all the "fun things" but - above all - I will remember the dramatic beauty of the desert. I will remember playing in the sand. And I will remember the sweet, unexpected Flower Bush that brought so much meaning on a tender afternoon.

Tender Mercies. Tender mercies.