It was 2016 and...

December 30, 2016

Kansas City, Missouri

She started talking in full sentences, found her own piece of the family puzzle.  We built a driftwood kingdom on rocky shores kissed with the ice cold waters of Lake Superior. We passed the flashlight around and told stories by the camp fire, inside the tent as the rain fell, and carried the tradition to our living room at night. We explored waterfalls and walked through pools of water turned copper by the earth. We climbed exposed tree roots on steep hillsides and found trusty walking sticks. Someone learned to ride a bike. Someone learned to read. Someone learned a little about using the potty. We explored a piece of Oklahoma and found the bluest waters gently pooled in a kaleidoscope of green. We read wonderful stories. We melted in the summer heat and felt the distance from the water. We watched and cheered as great challenges were overcome and a deep belief in self was birthed. We took our first family bike ride. We kept going when the exhaustion was fierce, when the everyday was demanding, loud, and beautiful. 

We took comfort in each other during the madness of parenthood, when three children appeared to be a great army against us. We sat quietly in the time when we needed something to come through and it always did. We talked of dreams and rested in the now, knowing that this is an important part of the story. We watched the world weep with madness, joined in the song, and asked so many questions and prayed so many prayers. We lit candles in hope and whispered, Messiah. We gathered safely in a warm house with food to eat and watched little glowing eyes open gifts around the tree and felt the glow of knowing that all of this was enough, because we were given all these days to be together.

That's what I remember about 2016.