Fifty-nine tomahawks and a dose of perspective

Last Thursday was one of the craziest days I’ve had in a long time. I spent three hours in the car running errands and shuttling boys to practices and games. Lonnie worked late, and I got the kids to bed late, so by the time I was ready to tuck myself in for the night, I had HAD IT. Like that kind of tired when your body aches.

But then Lonnie came home and told me the U.S. had fired 59 Tomahawk cruise missiles at Syria, and I started wondering what the future was going to look like for my kids. Where will the world be in five years or 10? Will they be able to go to college, or will they be off to war?

I hadn’t been terribly impatient with my kids on Thursday, but I hadn’t enjoyed them a lot either (and I also accidentally rolled up my son’s face in the car window—for real).

I remembered that Lonnie and I had been promising the boys we’d take them to see Rogue One since before Christmas and never did. I told Lonnie we ought to see it at the cheap theater over the weekend, and we went to bed.

At lunchtime the next day, Lonnie told me that the movie wasn’t in the theater anymore, and I was so disappointed. It was another lost opportunity.

Or maybe not. I drove to the school and checked out my boys a few minutes early. We headed to Sonic for half-price slushies. And on the way home, we laughed out loud at silly lyrics in Lorde’s new song. It was a good, simple moment where I felt truly happy and I think they did too.

The future will bring what it will bring, and life might not always be so simple, safe, and easy. But those sweet, simple moments feel pretty perfect right now, and memories from days like today might be just what we need to get us through whatever lies ahead. •