Some Big Shoes to Fill

Been fighting big battles on quite a few fronts lately. It’s mostly left Dave and I physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. Consequently, we had a quiet and last-minute celebration of my father-in-law’s 80th birthday tonight. The boys have been fortunate to know all four of their grandparents who have been surrounding them and just being awesome since the day they were born.

We went out to eat. At a restaurant. With the three boys. At night. And I was struggling with complete irritation over not wanting to chase them all over the restaurant and correct etiquette and “don’t stick your hands in the ice water” and “stop waving around the chopsticks”… but you know that’s all they wanted to do.

Little TJ had chosen to wear Sammy’s shoes tonight. Did I fight that battle? You bet your sweet booty I did not. I let him wear those too big shoes and he was so darn proud of them. He could barely walk in them but he grinned and stumbled around.

As brother three got down for the millionth time, I saw brother one quietly get down from the table and start following him around. He did it before I could even get up. Oh trust… Dave was in the bathroom with number two so we were just playing zone defense. Everyone has 10 jobs at restaurant and only .5 of one of the jobs is actually eating food.

Josh got down and just followed close after TJ, making sure he wasn’t going to climb up on the table and table dance. Not out of character for him. Interestingly enough, when Josh gently grabbed him, TJ leaned into him whereas if it were me, he would throw a big crazy fit and I’d have to fireman carry him out of the restaurant.

I watched this scene unfold. At one point, TJ lost his too-big shoe. Josh gently grabbed him and the shoe and carefully put it back on.

My eyes filled with tears. Somewhat from exhaustion, but mostly out of pride for the small scene I had just witnessed. One brother taking responsibility for another and the other brother trusting in his guidance.

I told Josh at bedtime that watching him put his brother’s shoes on was the absolute best part of my day and I could not be more proud he was my son. His heart is so sensitive.

Take my hand, Lord. Lead me around. Put on my too big shoes when they fall off. Keep me from harm. A simple prayer tonight as I drift off, but no less sincere.