Seventeen years ago tonight

I went out with a friend who insisted that I could not sit at home crying for my grandpa forever, and that I should go and try to have some fun.

If you read here regularly you know I am not one who believes in angels, even though I sometimes want to.

But that December 26, I ran into an old friend. Someone that, actually, I had loved for years without even acknowledging it to myself.

Maybe, sometimes, there are angels. Because I believe that I would never have made the choices I made that night on my own. I am too stubborn, too proud, to focused on "the plan" to see what is obvious sometimes. I believe my Grandpa Don knew what I wanted better than I knew what I wanted. I like to think he was out there, somewhere, whispering in my ear or sitting on my shoulder, telling me to trust my instincts and go with my heart.

And, 17 years later, I sit in my cozy house listening to the sounds of my husband and sons talking, playing and relaxing, I couldn't be more grateful for that divine intervention.

A family friend played and sang this song at our wedding. Rob chose it and I agreed, not just because it's a beautiful song, but because I really want to believe it's true.