We made crepes with Nutella this morning to satisfy my craving for them. The blue eyed devils weren't complaining. There's nothing like that first bite. And the last. And every single one in between.

We took Atticus to the dog park, more so H&F could run but I told them it was for the dog. Driving home, the sun decided to come out for 9 minutes. During that much needed sun break, the song Sweet Home Alabama came out of the stereo. I opened the sun roof and cranked it. Instantly, I was transported back in time and memories started flipping through my brain like cards in a deck. I got the chills and my heart felt full. I smiled and looked in the rear view mirror to see two bobbing heads.

There I was in my memory, reliving driving the 1976 CJ7 Jeep that all 4 Padden kids drove at one time, and feeling as if my heart might burst from these sudden, surprising, happy memories.  In some of the memories, I saw my Dad's smiling face. He loved that Jeep too, and loved that we loved it.

And like that, I was gripping the wheel and crying.

Allthewhile, I felt as if I was watching myself going through this strange period of extreme happiness and overwhelming grief. Knowing that it was normal but also knowing that doesn't make it any easier.

It reminded me of something Meg said the other day when we were talking about growing up.

My heart sometimes aches for those days. Not because they were easier or better or more fun than our days now. They were just...the known. You know? I know when I look back, Dad will be there.

I couldn't have said it better.