I wasn’t there.  I was, but to them, I wasn’t.

You know what I mean.

It was one of those moments that you hope your brain is recording as vividly as you’re seeing it.

It was one of those moments that a soundtrack could start to play and the camera is focused on them, with the hustle and bustle of a busy Saturday afternoon at Costco speeding by all blurry.

They were there. Just the two of them.

Looking at each other. Laughing. Teasing. Enjoying one another.

And I didn’t create it. I didn’t force it. I didn’t have to manipulate Danny into being the Daddy we wanted him to be. I didn’t have to tell Danny what to say or what not to. I didn’t have to tell him what to do or how to be patient with Corbin.

It wasn’t about me at all.

It was all about them.

I stood there close, but not so close as to be noticed.

Leaning on the full cart, with a smile across my face, I just watched until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I had to be a part of the party. I needed in on the joke. I needed to see it up close and personal.

I needed my family.

That is what it felt like in that moment. It felt like we were normal. It felt good. Really good.

There is nothing that brightens up my life than seeing my boys laughing with one another. Nothing. I suppose it’s because my joy is wrapped up in them. My life is theirs and when they’re laughing, my heart swells.

When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dreamed. Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then it was said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.” The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy. Psalm 126:1-3