When the night comes, I sneak outside to breathe, to feel the air, and to be me.   Outside, the stars are twinkling.  I can see the moon, bright, big and full tonight.  The sky is otherwise dark and the shadows of the trees in the forest behind my home call to me.  It seems Grant and I have our best talks out there.  Without sounding like the crazy lady who still talks to her dead husband, I go out there for the peace of it. 

 It’s so quiet and I can hear myself think.  When I can hear myself think, I can see more clearly, that’s when I can hear Grant.  I can remember.  Life is so busy. I’m scurrying from here to there, managing the life of 2 parents on my own, guiding the 4 boys that came from us. I honestly don’t have a lot of quiet space to think.  I keep moving, keep busy and I like it to be this way currently.  This constant is the evidence of Grant, my boys’ father, reminding me he was real, he is real. 

On my way to Grant’s favorite place to hang around outside, the cove of grass meets a rock wall that goes up to the forest; it feels magical.  I can see why it’s his favorite.  He knows I won’t want to climb the rock stairs at night, so he stays close to where I can get to easily. It’s beautiful. 

Tonight, on my way to our magical cove of forest with our star covered sky, I see who was at the fire pit nearby.  I can tell by the remnants of their actions. The evidence of who they are, that they are here, living in this place, in this life with me. They are his and his influence is very alive in them, Grant’s boys.

I’ll explain.  See the brass rod sticking out of the fire pit? It turns on the gas to the fire pit.  The boys are not allowed to touch it.  I keep it safely in a kitchen drawer.   There it is, stuck right where it’s supposed to go to make the fire happen.  No, they didn’t ask me.  Boys.

Luckily, it takes a lot of skill to get it into the right spot and they haven’t figured that out yet. I can tell from the crooked angle, they were unsuccessful. The lighter on the surface, well you need that to actually light the gas for fire to happen. My boys know this.  The evidence left behind says they intended to light the fire. They didn’t ask because I’d say no, not without supervision.  Funny boys.  They were ready though.

The purple tube is a tube of bubbles for blowing soap bubbles.  I just refilled them today.  I always remind the boys bubbles are for outside only and send them out to play.  Purple is the baby’s color tube.  Evidence he was with brothers; watching, conspiring with them in their attempt to light the forbidden fire. 

Next to the black string is hand sanitizer. At our house, it’s not there just because of Covid. Grant would squeeze out the sanitizer onto the countertop at home and then light it on fire. I know, I know, it sounds practically blasphemous now during the pandemic. To waste precious sanitizer in this time isn’t the best activity, but they don’t know that.  What they know is that when you light sanitizer, the surface it sits on lights up with the wonder of fire and will burn seemingly like magic. 

Where does the fire come from?  They know the invisible layer of sanitizer feeds the fire.  A favorite household party trick by dad.  Again, evidence of Grant’s existence. The boys loved it.  Since they couldn’t get the fire to work in the pit in this instance, they brought out the sanitizer to get a fire going.   Their mission was fire.  Dad taught the boys that one. 

Next to all that, a pile of nails. See, my house is being renovated.  The nails belong to the contractor.  Apparently he left them accessible. And as boys do, something sharp and pointy needs to be poked into something smooth and flat.  The boys obviously took them to accomplish this task of poking. They had already been in trouble for doing it to the walls inside the house; thus they took the nails outside where mom wouldn't see right away.  Scheming boys. 

Finally, the comic book, that’s Riley.  He was, it seems, the head of this project.  He was in his book until he got the brilliant idea to light the fire. He likely enrolled his 2 younger brothers to participate.  Yes, he always has a book with him and puts it down whenever his attention is diverted by something worthy enough to call him from his book.  Fire meets that requirement. 

As I passed this scene, I took all of this in within just a second. As the story unfolded for me; I thought how normally I would have been angry that they were trying to make fire without permission, frustrated that they were being destructive with nails and annoyed they didn’t clean up after themselves.  Those emotions are all a choice.  Life's too short to feel that way.  This I know now. 

Tonight what I am thinking is, I’m so grateful these little people are here in my life.  The evidence of them here is that they are mine, alive, and present in my life to leave behind these messes.  I don’t want to be without them and keep my house clean. I don’t want to have quiet all day so I don’t have to hear their loudness.  All of them, they are my blessing. It’s all a blessing.

Tonight as I pick up each thing, cleaning up after them,  I know why they had each item and what part it played in their plans.  The influence of Grant is all over their actions.  I see him and I see them and tonight I feel gratitude for both.  These are my boys.  This is my life.  Thank you for the blessing and the challenge.  I’m up for both, because I see the beauty in the mess tonight.  I didn't make it out to our sacred cove.  I just stayed at the fire pit and whispered, “Thanks Grant for showing me this.”