The month of June has come and gone.
It was jam-packed full of summer activities and a bit of schooling. Baseball and softball reigned supreme and ruled many late evenings.
Storms and sunshine each had their place.
Near the very end of June, the youngest of the tribe turned twelve.
It is hard to believe, but it is true. Next summer will put all of my children into their teens and beyond. You know the old adage, "time flies"? Well, there is much truth to that.
We are well into the hot month of July with yet another birthday looming, and not many words are coming. Yet, I don't want to neglect these important things because I know that the days keep slipping away, one by one.
Time is not necessarily a friend.
The same day my youngest child turned that magical "twelve", the son of a mother I have never met, left this earth to live in his eternal home.
He was twelve years older than my son.
Her son gave his life on foreign soil defending the rights of liberty and keeping the horrors of war far from our peaceful town.
My heart continues to ache for them.
He was laid to rest two days after Independence Day. And while many wrote posts about remembering our freedom and those who purchased it, my heart remained full and
words did not come.
And so here we are, in the middle of a hot July.
It has not been a silent summer by any means,
but sometimes the words are too many or
I will tell you about the terrific twelve year old who lives in my house and keeps marching toward the teen years and beyond.
But today, I cannot.