The lovely Abby fell asleep in the car on the way home from the hospital this morning, so instead of disturbing her sleep (since she's had a fairly disruptive couple of days and needs some rest), I'm perched on a lawn chair near the car and trying to hold the laptop in just the right position to connect to the wireless internet.
It's a lovely day today, in more ways than one. We've had too many cold, windy, dreary days lately, so this morning the warm sun is a welcome delight. And the sunshine mirrors our mood around here. It feels like just the right kind of "day after".
I sat and held Jack for a long time this morning, and as I gazed into his peaceful sleeping face, I had to choke back tears. When you've longed for something so badly and you almost didn't dare to hope for it, the blessing at the end of the darkness can almost overwhelm you. This family has known too many stories that didn't end well, so we knew better than to casually assume "it wouldn't happen to us".
There are still many unknowns about Jack's future, but I heard the doctor say this morning that "things have gone so much better than we might have expected" and those are words enough for me to hang onto this optimism.
Almost as good as seeking Jack look so beautifully normal is the sight of my sister looking like someone at peace.
Peace and hope are two of my favourite words today.