Today I planned a boys' day, at least for Seth, Riley, & Bill. Luke is 14. At times he ventures out of his room, but he could never be seen in public with us. Having to spend his days at school with his mom is enough! Anyways, I thought hard to find a place that at least three of my boys would enjoy, without spending a fortune.
So I decided on the Alamo. I know, I know. We only live 45 minutes from San Antonio, but the little ones had never been there. They were so excited last night when I told them that they couldn't sleep.
They were fascinated! How could a boy not love looking at all the guns and knives? I found it extremely funny when they realized that we, as Texans, did not win the battle. They were very upset! When we bought them toy Alamo soldiers at the gift shop they argued over who was going to be the Mexicans, not because they both wanted to be Texans, but because they both wanted to be the Mexicans so that they could win.
Another thing that stuck me funny was their fascination with the "ghosts" of the Alamo. Last night we watched a show called "Haunted History". Each week it showcases a different city and last night it happened to be San Antonio. It was hysterical to watch them peep around every corner to see if the coast was clear.
We ran into a man advertising a museum across the street, which was really cool. He was dressed like someone who was at the Alamo would have appeared. The boys were in awe of his real Bowie knife. Before we left we asked him if the boys could take a picture with him. He kindly obliged. So Bill tells the boys, "Go stand by the man in the costume." The man quickly replied, "Not a costume. Period clothing, sir." That man takes his job seriously!
But I have to tell you, that as we ventured out, Grey was on my mind. I looked for him with every baby's shriek. I saw him in every toddler's scamper. And I wondered, if Grey were here, would I too be as stressed as these other parents, trying to keep their kids quiet and contained in this holy mission?
As we were in the gift shop, making our inexpensive outing not so inexpensive, we passed Alamo Christmas tree ornaments. I turned to Bill and told him that this year we needed to keep an eye out for a star ornament for Grey. He wandered off and returned with . . . a star ornament. But not just any star ornament, the perfect star ornament. Because on the star was a cardinal.
Now those of you who have been following me know the story of the cardinal. But I will again share for those of you that don't.
I hate birds. Plain and simple. Not sure why. Just do. Awhile ago, I was having a rough day, just full of grief that I didn't know what to do with. It had just rained a bit and I decided to go outside to enjoy somewhat of a cooler evening and get the mail. As I approached the mailbox, a bird squawked. I hate birds. I looked around to make sure that it wasn't going to dive bomb me. There it sat on the telephone wire. I headed toward home and as I approached our driveway it squawked again. I looked up. Same bird. Same squawk. It was messing with me. As I turn to walk down our driveway I said out loud, "OK Grey. You know I hate birds. If you're going to use a bird to get my attention, it better be a one pretty bird." And with that, the most beautiful cardinal swooped down from behind my back, over my head, and off into the woods. Ever since then, I see cardinals everywhere.
Only Grey could use something I hate and turn it into something I search for.
It was a good day. And even though I venture out, I still see Grey in the strangest places, in the strangest forms.