Elysium

I am up too late. My eyes are so heavy that the lids could fall shut at any time. I am in Austin, Pflugerville to be exact. I'm visiting my cousin Mhari, her husband James, and their new baby, Andrew. He's tiny and sweet and passes some incredible gas. He loves his mom and dad, likes to be in motion, enjoys bath time, is getting over some reflux issues, likes being sung to, has a seriously stubborn streak (which I already admire), and in my very humble opinion, looks just like his grandpa Kim most of the time.

I spoke with Jake for a little over two hours tonight as I put Cora to bed. Our conversations keep getting longer, and tonight I couldn't quite get to sleep after we hung up. I came out in to the living room to take my prenatal vitamin and some tums (I was love-hatingly introduced to Chuy's jalapeno ranch today). Everyone had gone to bed, and I couldn't pass up some email checking time. Really quick. And because I wasn't ready for bed just yet. I've never before thought about the variety of things that can end up in one person's inbox.

I always save emails from Jake for last. More love letters. I had several things from a church group, one of which contained absolutely heartbreaking news. The daughter of a sweet couple in our ward passed away today. I sat here for a good ten minutes trying to figure out what to write in terms of what had happened. Anything having to do with death doesn't seem appropriate, especially when a child is involved. Lost, parted, passed, died - they all seem so permanent.

Sometimes, there are no right words.

I believe that life is eternal. I'm sure this family will be reunited and have the chance to grow together someday. I haven't known them for very long, but I consider them friends. They brought me dinner when I was throwing my guts up, even with their daughter in the hospital. They are a wonderful example of service and faith, and I hope that anyone who reads this will say a prayer for them.

And as I sit here, up even later, with Magnolia moving all about under the partial weight of this borrowed computer, I can't help but feel grateful and know that too often times my greatest treasures are taken forgranted.

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