Yesterday we wrote that nobody in our plural family is THE ONE. Today, Solis’s Day answered the obvious question: Then how does anything get done? Groceries, garlic, an unmade bed, a four-year-old’s stew, fear, changing plans, and eight sons who keep showing Daddy what happens when everyone belongs and being heard can actually change what happens next.
Tag Archives: Architecture
And Then Saturday Happened
Daniel said no, so we stayed home. What followed wasn’t a therapeutic exercise or something devised for a blog. It was simply Saturday: blueberry waffles with peanut butter, boys needing Daddy, Hilda, quesadillas, an old letter finally sent, an octopus reclaimed, and ordinary family life unfolding because we listened.
And All Before Breakfast
Before breakfast on Jude’s Day, a night of disturbing dreams opens into questions of belonging, work, therapy, faith, family, and what it means to build a life in which no one has to disappear for the family to survive.
Sometimes You Run Out of Glue
Sometimes what looks unfinished is finished. Sometimes what emerges from the fire is more truthful than what we intended to make. And sometimes the next step in rebuilding a life begins with knowing when to stop, look at what is already here, and let God turn the page.
One Little Thing
Some problems arrive so large that we disappear inside them. On Hope’s Day, an insurance envelope, memories of architecture, a lesson from Mom, and a Bruce Springsteen song taught us something different: one little thing. Then another. Hope is not knowing how everything will turn out. Hope is learning how to remain here while we find out.
The Shape in the Plaster
For much of our life, Proverb could see things Dad could not. He bridged the inner and outside worlds, helped his brothers, and somehow helped a family survive a life Dad did not yet understand. Now, at twelve, Proverb is learning something entirely different: he does not have to hold everything together.
Notes from the Treehouse 