The Fourth of July has taken a new meaning to me. Two years ago on the 4th was the first time I walked all by myself to the park after battling the blood clots and spending many months immobile. It was long and slow, and on the return trip Guy had to get the car and pick me up. But I had mostly done it. I sent a text to Dr. F. that night announcing my accomplishment. He told me it was the best birthday present he'd gotten that year.
The next year on the 4th I ran a 5K with the support of Kathy and Danielle. I sent a picture to Dr. F. of us at the finish line. He cheered from a distance.
This year was just a regular 4th. I texted Dr. F., sharing my gratitude with him over my ability to have a regular anything. I just wished him a happy birthday and told him thanks for keeping me alive. He humbly deflected the credit, and in a way he is right. It wasn't all him. Besides the many others who cared for me, it was a loving God that decided to let me be here for another year. I very much acknowledge his hand in all things in my life.
This may be Independence Day,
but for me it is the day I celebrate
that I am dependent on him.
Photo Bomb!
Two peas... always together.
The little kid's table. We are running out of little kids!
Guy's yummy Thai pulled pork sandwiches with ginger mayo and Mexican corn.
Red, white and, um, well, kind'a purple, actually.
Now that's what I call blue.
When all else fails, use food coloring. Lot's of it.
The kids and I made new shirts this year.
Ellie did her's solo, and with perfect precision.
Off to the fireworks!
Next Up... Camping!!!
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