I sit here staring mid-afternoon at a color book page of a beautiful rose, inside-the-lines seven-year-old perfection. Beside it is a one-color scribble coloring of Ariel the mermaid. Downstairs, chatter and giggles from the three older grandchildren who have difficulty with quiet during quiet time. In the rooms next to my desk, one granddaughter in each bed, dreaming away the afternoon crankiness.

Our home is full. The sidewalks and porch are beautiful hues of all colors pastel and chalky, floors are generously sticky, and the glass storm door is smudged and smeared with a fingerprint duster’s dream canvas.

For lunch today, we sat around our table and enjoyed sandwiches and laughter after we sang our prayer:

♫  For the Lord is good to me, and so I thank the Lord!
For giving me the things I need,
The sandwiches and chips and cantaloupe and juice to drink,
The Lord is good to me.
Amen! Amen amen amen, AHHHHH-MEN.   ♫

It has been an exhausting four days since Sam received his first treatment and began this chemotherapy. Between trying to maintain his regular schedule of go go go go go, preparing for daughter and grandchildren to arrive at our sparsely furnished small town USA home, experiencing heat exhaustion after unloading a trailer while the body adjusted to poison, severe vomiting in the middle of the night, glorious chaos and noise filling every nook and cranny, fireworks and humidity and scrapes and demands and whiny cries and giggles and garden tractor bucket rides and dirty feet and two jars of fireflies and runny noses and learning to ride bikes and the hanging of a porch swing and air mattresses and snow cones and late late nights, Sam is glad to be back in the relaxed atmosphere of his job during harvest.

I am grateful for laughter with Karissa.

I am grateful for sticky and dirty and for being peed on during a fireworks show.

I am grateful for pill boxes and nice nurses and KU doctors-on-call at 2 am.

I am grateful for beautiful grandchildren who are well-behaved in public.

I am grateful that Natia is tolerant of nervous littles who aren’t sure of canines.

I am grateful for cool breeze.

I am grateful for a core group of friends who are at the ready to pray when we are feeling desperate and at our most vulnerable.

I am grateful for juice boxes in the fridge and popsicles in the freezer.

I am grateful for a sidewalk full of snake burns, evidence of fireworks fun.

I am grateful that Sam is feeling better and survived the first awful.

I am grateful for peaceful nighttime when the town finally sleeps after shooting all of the fireworks.

I am grateful for memories being made.