May 10th

Lightening streaks the dark velvet sky. Rain falls softly. The wind must be playing elsewhere this evening for all is still. Peepers sing. One teenager talks on the phone. Another studies her history homework. Three other kids are tucked into their rooms reading. My windows are open and the smell of May is gently carried in on a breath of breeze.

We celebrated Philip's birthday today. I felt miserable for a good bit of the day. But as we ate our cheeseburgers (Philip's favorite treat food) and the storm rolled toward Salem over the mountains, we began to laugh and remember. We ran around the cemetery, relishing the electric energy of the storm. The raindrops chased us to the suburban and then we drove around Philip's alma mater, Roanoke College. We told the stories he would tell us of his college antics and we imagined his skinny young college self, hanging out with dear Lynne and other friends. We marveled that if he hadn't been born, none of us would be hanging out in the suburban tonight. And if he hadn't come to Roanoke College and met Lynne and Larry, we would never know our many friends here, and would have never lived on our farm.

Everyone was pooped when we got home. But we did several silly little trivial things that only Philip would have done, in honor of him. And we asked God to tell him happy birthday for us and to let him know how happy we are that he was born. And the kids wondered if there were birthday cake in heaven and we all decided that we had no idea, but if there were, it would be good.

I don't feel so bad this evening. Tired, coming down with a cold, or allergies or something. Stopped up ears. But the heart that was bleeding earlier today feels comforted at the moment.

I may have to tuck myself in with a book, too. The sound of peepers and rain are great background music. At least the sound that I can hear through my dulled, stopped up ears.

OH!

I almost forgot! Right when we were driving out to the cemetery this evening, Maggie jumped in the suburban from doing her chores. She told me that one of the ewes had two new lambs with her! New, but dry and nursing. What a sneaky little thing! A couple of days ago I thought she looked pregnant, but it was so late, I thought I must have been imagining things. So she is tucked into the upper part of the barn. Two new little jacob lambs. What a treat.