It's a Wednesday

It's a Wednesday.

Like any other Wednesday.

Solly finished the leftover pancakes for breakfast.
Yael and David finished the leftover french toast.
I had a bowl of yogurt with granola.

There was coffee.

It's a Wednesday, so we got up and got dressed.
The high school has late start, so Michael drove the kids together.
It's cold outside, so I reminded everyone to wear a hat.

It's a Wednesday, so Solly argued about wearing socks.

It's a Wednesday, so Yael left me her Hebrew binder to bring along for later.

It's a Wednesday, so I drove to my office.

It's a Wednesday, and that's just how it is.

It's a Wednesday, and you're not here. 

Today is completely normal and completely abnormal, in much the way that every day since you died has been. Some days I am drawn into the darkness and other days I find the light. Some days, it's a lot of both.

It's a Wednesday, three years to the day since you died.

It's 1,096 days later and I miss you just as much.

Our beloved Dr. M is conducting his own campaign this week and it happens to be one that would be totally up Sammy's rock-loving alley. Yes, rocks. Check it out. My favorite part was the "press" conference. If you'd like a rock, click here. (If you'd rather give to St. Baldrick's, here's Yael's link.)

Rabbi Steven Lowenstein promised Sammy that we'd remember him with fireworks. This year, we watched them in a driving snowstorm and they were remarkably beautiful. 

Some of Sammy's friends watching the fireworks, lit up by their brightness (photo credit: Rebecca Einstein Schorr)