Who turned on the rain and tears?

Well, it was bound to happen, and I knew once it started there'd be very little I could do about it.

Rain is lovely, it makes things cleaner and it's a nice change from all that irritating sunshine. Last night as I was snuggling with Heshy, all of a sudden the tears started, and honestly I couldn't swallow them quickly enough for Heshy not to see them.

He's quick, and he's always saying what's on his mind (gee, I wonder where he got THAT from) so he told me to 'stop making those faces right away.' I tried as hard as I could, because, well, obviously I don't want him to start seeing me sad. But it's impossible to think about him, the youngest of them all, and not worry. Even if all I'm facing is a torturous year of medical crap -- still, today's his 8th birthday. He needs to concentrate on finding new ways to drive us nuts, discovering more gross crawly things in the garden, and figuring out better techniques for getting out of his chores.

Somehow, with no idea where the strength came from, I stopped 'making those faces.' And then he and I agreed that worry is pointless, since I'll be just fine.

I hope God was listening.