Roses in the Right Hands

Yesterday, Aaron and I had so much fun making our annual delivery of Valentine roses to Paradigm, his day group.  The roses are given by our local Dillon’s store, made possible by our sweet friend, Jody.  

I have more fun with this than Aaron does.  He gets nervous about it, wanting things to go just so-so according to his perceived plans.

“Mom,” he told me on our way to Paradigm, “boys shouldn’t get roses.”

“Boys can have a rose if they want one,” I replied.

“But I see only women as being for roses,” he countered.

Oh Aaron.  

So, you can see that Aaron had his mind made up about how this should operate.  I gave him a little pre-event briefing as we drove there, and all was well as far as the guys getting a rose from Aaron.

The roses put smiles on many faces on this Valentine’s Day.  I never capture it in pictures the way I would like but here are a few shots.

Even Piper, the dog, had a rose offered to him by Aaron.

When I watch Aaron’s friends, either at Paradigm or elsewhere, I am so touched by each of their physical struggles.  Recently, Aaron casually mentioned a big change for one of his friends.  It hit me hard.  I wanted to hide behind a closed door away from Aaron and just cry for this dear person.

I watch these special friends of Aaron’s when I pick him up at the end of his day.  Many of their struggles are physical and easily seen.  Some are not so visible but are there just the same.  

I am inspired by their strength amid their daily difficulties…how they accept their situations and keep going…how they laugh and hug and give of themselves to each other.

I saw a quote about a rose that I loved.

“A rose doesn’t talk about its beauty; it just shows it.”

When I look at our special ones, I see a unique kind of beauty.  They don’t know how beautiful they really are…beautiful in the ways that count.  

They don’t talk about their beauty, but they certainly show it in how they love and how they live with resilience and acceptance and strength.  

They’re not held up by the world as models of fame and beauty.  

They don’t swoosh in on a red carpet, cameras flashing, people clapping, gushing with their own vain glory, the subject of tomorrow’s headlines and news reels and parades.

But oh, they show a beauty that far exceeds the gaudy, self-serving lives that are idolized by so much of the world.  

I would give them a million roses if I could, but I hope that the one rose they received yesterday reminds them that they are the true beauties of this world…and they show it every day without saying a word.

Up and Down With Uncle Aaron

Many of you have been wondering how Uncle Aaron is faring with his little nephew, Ryker.  Well, since a picture is worth a thousand words, let me share our family Christmas picture that our sweet neighbor was kind enough to take for us in the middle of some cold temperatures.

You can clearly see the struggle on Aaron’s face.  And also the love that his sister, Andrea, has for him as she helped him tolerate standing there long enough for some pictures by holding his hand.

It wasn’t just the cold that was bothering Aaron.  Not even the promise of eating dinner out right after this was enough to make Aaron smile.

Reality was setting in for Aaron.  Andrea worded it perfectly last night as we talked after Aaron had left the room.

“Ryker has infiltrated Aaron’s life,” she wisely said.  

I can illustrate Aaron’s way of viewing his life by what happened as he and I were getting his blankets on his bed a couple nights ago.  He got two new blankets for Christmas.  Since it’s been so cold, he wants to put both new blankets on his bed along with the three he already uses…for a grand total of five blankets!

I have written before about the order of his covers.  Nothing has changed.  He has decided that on top of his already well-ordered blankets, he wants the Christmas blanket first and the grey blanket on top.  I made the dastardly mistake of reversing that order.  I went ahead with things, wondering if Aaron would mind.  He did.

“Mom, I want the Christmas blanket first!” he said.

“It doesn’t really matter, Aaron,” I naively answered.

“But I want them the way I like them!” he declared.

He was already removing the offending grey blanket as he spoke.  Knowing better than to fight his need for this certain order, I complied while keeping silent.  

Pick your battles, right?

Aaron’s initial reaction to Ryker was precious.  He gave Ryker his special bear, as I wrote about earlier.

Within three days, Aaron had taken back the bear.

Up and down.

After friends graciously took him out to dinner on our Christmas Eve, and then he survived our Christmas day, he was much improved.  After some encouragement from me, he gave the bear back to Ryker.

But the realities of autism rule Aaron’s mind and his relationships. 

Again, look at another picture.  This is Aaron’s place at our dinner table one recent night.  He set the table, and his setting is exactly as he wants…and needs…it to be.  Fighting it is useless and unproductive.

Watching Aaron in every area of his life is exactly as described years ago by M.P. Everard:  “…one is instantly aware of how different they are and the enormous effort they have to make to live in a world where no concessions are made and where they are expected to conform.”

The reality of a baby in our lives, even his precious nephew, is not precious to Aaron.  He sees the laughter and the joy that Ryker brings.  Aaron is not the center of attention.  His egocentric tendencies rebel against this fact.

Conforming to our desire for Aaron to love and accept Ryker is a huge mountain for Aaron to climb.  

When Ryker is with us during a meal, Aaron literally spends the entire time talking about things like the core of the earth, whatever video he is watching, aliens, etc., etc.

Andrea is so good to try to focus on Aaron, but we all know that Aaron also needs to understand and to share that focus with Ryker.

Ryker, the offending nephew.  

The infiltration of the nephew is not acceptable to Aaron.  

“I want life the way I like it!!” Aaron is inwardly…and sometimes outwardly…saying.  

I wish he was only referring to blankets and silverware.  But Aaron is also wanting his immediate family to focus on him when we are all together.  Ryker is not cooperating with that demand from Aaron just by nature of being a baby.

Today I spent lots of much needed time with Aaron.  We went to Wal-Mart, picked up Taco Bell for lunch, watched two episodes of All Creatures Great and Small, and played Yahtzee.  

While shopping, Aaron picked out a cute little yellow stuffed bee that he wants to give Ryker.  I talked to him about how the best thing he can give Ryker is his love and kindness.  I believe, from Aaron’s responses, that he really does want to do that, but his desires are overtaken by how his brain is wired.  He reacts spontaneously to his environment, no matter who he offends.  

So, we keep plugging away as we try to understand with patience the huge task in front of Aaron.  And trust me, sometimes our patience wears very thin.

Our prayer is that Aaron will learn to love sharing his love with Ryker as much as he loves sharing stuffed animals.   

Through the ups and downs of this new journey, I do not want to forget all the goodness of God that He has shown us.  The answers to our prayers have been amazing.  

May I not lose sight of the fact that even when I feel like Aaron’s heart is out of our reach, his heart is never out of God’s reach.  

Thank you to each of you who are caring and are praying.   

Our Stocking Legacy

When each of us King babies was born, a dear family friend (Janice Vermillion) knit a stocking for us. You can see mine hanging here, a true antique now and yellowed with age – no comments, please. 😅

When each of us King kids got married, my mother knit a stocking for our spouses. When the grand babies came, she knit a stocking for each of them. She even made stockings for our pets!

As she got older and before she could no longer knit, she made extra stockings for the grandchildren. One was for their future spouse, and then extra for their future children – her future great grandchildren.

When Andrea married Kyle, my sister Jan put his name on his stocking. Then when Andrea was pregnant, Jan…the keeper of the extra stockings 😍…sent Andrea’s extra two stockings to her and Kyle so they could have one for their coming baby. Andrea chose the one she wanted for Ryker and I brought it home after one of my visits.

Yesterday, on our quiet Christmas, I put Ryker’s name on his stocking. I had a few conversations with Mom as I finished what she had started before she died. And I shed a few tears as I thought of all the love displayed not only in that one stocking, but in our row of stockings hung at our fireplace. And in the dozens and dozens of stockings she made for people all over the world.

Kyle said it so well as Andrea shared the stocking picture with him. To Ryker he said, “You’ve been loved since before you were born.”

Indeed.

Thank you, Mom, for the legacy of love you have given to us even long after you are not here. ❤❤❤❤

Do You Know Me?

One evening last week, Aaron had a money gift burning a hole in his pocket.  He knew exactly what he wanted, so off we went to Walmart to look at throw pillows.  He wanted one to rest his book on while reading at night.  Soon we were walking down the main aisle toward the check-out lanes, Aaron happily holding his very soft black pillow.  

Walking toward us was a cashier whose lane we have used several times when we have checked out.   While in her lane, Aaron, as usual, talks and talks to her while she scans our items.  He discusses with her what we have bought..what he likes that we have bought..does she like those too?…what he wanted but Mom wouldn’t let him get…would she want those?…why or why not?…and anything else that he can quickly grab out of thin air before it’s time for us to walk away.

Aaron spied her as she walked toward us.  She gave us a nice smile.  I said hello and smiled in return.  Then Aaron stopped beside her and stared.  She wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“Do you know me?” he asked her.  

“Well, I scan your items sometimes and I remember you,” she replied, relaxing some and smiling at Aaron.

“It’s almost my BIRTHDAY!!” he exclaimed.

She wished him a happy birthday as I took his arm to lead him on and thanked her.

Oh, Aaron.

So unabashedly himself.  

Of course she remembers you, I thought to myself.  LOTS of people remember you.

But then it hit me.  It’s one thing to remember Aaron.  It’s quite another thing to KNOW Aaron.

“Do you know me?” he asked.

Aaron wasn’t diagnosed with autism until he was 14 years old.  We remember many incidents during those years before his diagnosis.  We remember his behaviors and quirks increasing but everyone attributing it to his seizure meds or the effects of the seizures themselves.  It was an extremely stressful time.

His autism diagnosis answered so many questions for us.  Off we set on this journey of understanding autism as it related to Aaron.

More importantly, however, we began to really understand Aaron through the tangled web of autism.  

In other words, we were getting to know Aaron for the complex person that he is.  

To REALLY know him.

It’s fun to know the funny side of Aaron.

We smile at the quirky side of Aaron.

And to enjoy the things that Aaron enjoys.

All those traits, and many more, are easy to roll with and relish.

But…and there’s always a “but,” isn’t there?

But there is an equal part of Aaron that can be very stressful and upsetting.

Sometimes, the upsets are mild, like when he uses multiple utensils for every meal.  Or doesn’t even use all of them but he needs each of them for reasons that are very real to him.  

Or how he can’t have just one CD of a particular artist that he is listening to but must have all of them out of the cabinet at the same time, strewn around the van or hidden under his bed.

How his routine and schedule are so important to him, to the point that he has a very hard time yielding any of it to our schedule, or to understand interruptions.

How hard it is so many times to wait on us when we’re going somewhere.  His impatience turns to anger, which can spread quickly to us.  

And then he carries that anger on some days to his day group, where he takes it out on others and has a no good, very bad day.  Here he is on one such very bad day.

It’s heartbreaking to see his struggles.  

“Do you know me?” I imagine him saying to us or to those who work with him.

Knowing Aaron…really knowing Aaron…takes lots of time and experience.  Lots of hard knocks and long nights and balancing acts.

Many days it’s one step forward and two steps back.

“Do you know me?” he asks again.

Sometimes we answer yes through gritted teeth, through tears, or anger and harsh words.

And then guilt.

Guilt that even though we know Aaron, we don’t always remember how he will react to even the most mundane things…things like a facial expression, a tone of voice, or a hand movement that pushes him over the edge.

But there is another thing we know.  

We know that God designed Aaron to be truly unique.  

God gave Aaron to us to love and to care for.  

And God knows that we need His strength and wisdom every single day.

“Do you know me?” Aaron asks again.

“Yes, Aaron,” we reply.  “We know you, and we will always remember that we love you in all your variety.”

It’s Aaron

After being out of town for several days, Gary and I returned on Monday afternoon.  Aaron was happy, happy to have us home.  But by Tuesday morning he was wishing that we were gone again, and our friends were back at the house watching him.  Re-entry to real life is often difficult for Aaron.  

And he is not the only one who finds it difficult!

Aaron was belligerent on Tuesday when faced with the reality of returning to his day group.  He was very verbal and confrontational.  It’s the side of Aaron that tests my mettle to the core.

It’s hard not to respond in kind to him.  Sometimes I do say more than I want to say, sadly.  As we drove to his day group, I really laid into him.  Not in a damaging or harmful way, but in a truthful way about how his words hurt us and why.  There are concepts that he needs to hear about how to love us even when he is angry.  How to recognize and acknowledge all we do for him instead of thinking only of himself. 

The night before, I had watched a video with him about a triangle UFO.  It’s the last thing I wanted to do.   He had called us repeatedly while we were gone, talking about this UFO video he wanted me to watch with him.

“MOM!!” he exclaimed, “it’s a triangle UFO video that’s 44:42.  Would you watch 44:42?”

Those are the minutes and seconds that he memorizes on each YouTube video that he watches, by the way.

He was ecstatic that I agreed to look it up and then to actually sit through 44:42.

So, on that next morning full of anger, he was full of remorse as I spoke truthfully to him.  As we neared his day group, he spoke softly.

“I’m glad you looked up the triangle UFO video.”

I was quiet.

“I’m glad you looked it up,” he repeated several more times before getting out of the van.

It was Aaron’s way of trying to say he was sorry.

A few hours apart worked wonders for both of us.  He was very happy when I picked him up and I was responsive once more.  I took him to the lab for some bloodwork, where he had to be poked in each arm and he flinched…something he rarely does.  My heart went out to him.  He deals with so much, even more internally in that brain of his than outwardly sometimes.

The technician gave him the plastic tourniquet to keep.  He was delighted.  I watched him walk around WalMart later, both arms with band aids and the tourniquet dangling from his fingers as if it was a prized possession.

I thought of how those small gestures…those items insignificant to us…bring him such joy. 

And it hit me that there are countless times that the seemingly insignificant, daily actions of Aaron bring us such joy…of how much I need to focus on those moments rather than the outbursts that bring hurt.

It’s Aaron at Walmart trying to hide from me because he has BOTH crescent rolls and biscuits in his hand that he wants me to buy.

It’s Aaron sitting on the floor of the store, totally oblivious to anyone around him as he checks out the peanuts on the bottom shelf.

It’s Aaron hardly able to wait until he could show me how much his sunflowers had grown while we were gone.

It’s Aaron helping clean under the kitchen table after supper.

It’s Aaron telling me he took his snacks to the snack drawer before bed.

It’s Aaron thrilled to pieces that I let him buy TWO boxes of Texas Toast.

It’s Aaron loving to do science experiments.

It’s Aaron super excited about his new volcano lamp.

It’s Aaron overjoyed because he won this light-up bouncy ball in Bingo, which he took today to show all our Meals on Wheels clients.  

It’s Aaron sitting alone in the mulch, breaking pieces into a container the same way he has done since he was a little boy.  There goes my heart.

It’s Aaron’s unique sense of style, unaffected by current trends or other’s opinions.

It’s Aaron’s unique impact on my life that I want to treasure and relish each day, even despite the hard times.  

Love, With a Little Sad

Recently, Aaron has been listening to the Phantom of the Opera movie soundtrack.  He has seen the movie and heard the music before, especially listening to the CD over and over.  But time has gone by, and Aaron doesn’t remember what the story is about.

During lunch a couple days ago, as he asked questions and I told him the story, I realized once again the sadness wrapped up in the Phantom’s life.  I couldn’t hide it from Aaron if I was going to tell the story correctly.

“You know, Aaron,” I finally said, “it’s really in many ways a sad story.”

Aaron thought for a minute.

“You have to see it as love,” he said.  “Love with a little bit of sad.”

His comment blew me away.  I was legitimately speechless.

I’ve thought a lot about what Aaron said.  I realize that he, in those few words, so perfectly described our life with him.

This life of parenting a special needs child is not a cake walk.  Yet we know that what God has allowed in our life is for a reason…and God’s reasons are always good.  Maybe His reasoning doesn’t make sense all the time, but God is good in all that He does and allows.

Gary and I have choices to make every day as we parent Aaron.  Yet no matter what moments we face each day, we love Aaron fiercely.

What is our focus?  Is it love, or is it sad?

We can’t ignore the sad.  That would be denial.

We’re sad when Aaron has seizures.

Sad when sometimes those seizures cause serious injuries.

Sad when his seizure meds make him so sleepy and tired.

Sad when he must be poked with needles so often.

We’re sad when his behaviors break his own heart.

Sad that he still refuses to travel to meet his new nephew.

But wait.  I need to remember what Aaron said.

Love, with a little bit of sad.

We want our life to be lived with a major on love and a minor on sad.

Like the love we felt for him last night as we stood outside watching the beautiful lightning to the west, hearing the distant thunder along with Aaron’s deep happy chuckle.  

Seeing the love he has for animals of all sorts.

The way he takes huge delight in the unusual.

We love the joy he shows in sharing.

And the big smile he gives when I pick him up from his day group.

I love how he looked on the exam table at his last doctor’s visit, reading his UFO book that he couldn’t wait to show his doctor.

I love how he leans way over to listen to the music that comes out of the self-checkout register at Dillon’s, oblivious to all the stares.

I love his random love notes. 

 

And that he’s willing to take an occasional picture with Mom.

I love looking out the window and seeing this scene.

I love that behind every hard, frustrating, stressful, and sad moment…I can hold on to this fact – that God has given us our special Aaron to love and care for.

We have to see it as love…love with a little bit of sad.

A Rose…A Friend

Sometimes when I pick Aaron up from his day group, while I wait for him to come to the car, I just sit and watch the various clients as they come and go.  There are times that tears fill my eyes.  Their needs are various, some more severely impacted by their conditions than others.  But each of them live challenging lives.  I am always humbled and amazed at their tenacity as they carry in their minds and bodies burdens that I have never faced.

This year, once again, our Dillon’s grocery store donated roses for Aaron to take to Paradigm on Valentine’s Day.   Jody, our sweet friend that we have come to know there, has made that happen for several years. 

Aaron is hesitant about all the hoopla of holidays.  He loves giving things to people but still he was nervous about taking the roses in to Paradigm. 

But oh my, it was a precious thing to see.  Barb and I had to remind Aaron to give a few to some of his less-favorite people, and their reactions warmed my heart. Just so you know, none of those persons is pictured here.

Just watching each client smile with delight was the highlight of my day. 

My flowers from Gary were a close second, but nothing beats just seeing the joy that a simple flower brings to these very special ones. 

I think more people would have a different outlook on life if they would go visit a special-needs day group…maybe take some things and bring some smiles and love to those who often need it the most.

I’ll leave you with these pictures.  Prepare to smile yourself.

        

“A single rose can be my garden… 

 A single friend…my world.”   (Leo Buscaglia)

A Good Place with Each Other

Aaron has a very special friend at his day group, Paradigm.  Her name is Victoria.  From the time Victoria first started attending Paradigm, she and Aaron just hit it off.  They became fast friends. 

Developing and maintaining relationships can be very tricky and difficult for Aaron.  We understand Aaron better than anyone does but even with us he can be full of relational surprises.  The tone of our voice…a particular hand motion…not following in his rigid demands…   There are so many ways that Aaron can suddenly become upset and angry with those of us who know him best.  Imagine the pitfalls of combining all the special needs and personalities in his day group!

But there is something very real and incredibly sweet about his relationship with Victoria.  She squeals and jumps with delight when he walks into Paradigm.  She misses him terribly when he isn’t there. 

And Aaron…well, Aaron (as far as we know!) tolerates her noises because he sees how much she cares for him.  He even shows empathy when a storm comes and Victoria is very scared, or when she is sad about something. 

Who can explain love? 

One thing I do know is that all of us, on whatever level we operate, want and need to be loved.

Aaron is an open book as he attempts to analyze and understand his feelings for Victoria.

One day, after an altercation with someone at Paradigm, Aaron was pondering Victoria’s reaction to that person.

“Mom, Victoria told N not to bother her boyfriend.  Am I the boyfriend?”

Another time, as he talked to me about Victoria, he revealed more of his thoughts.

“Mom, would she be happy for me to tell her I think she’s a girlfriend?”

Gary and I have tried over the years to stress the relationship of friendship rather than boyfriend/girlfriend.  But no attempts on our part to redirect his thinking on this can squelch the feelings in his heart. 

“Mom,” he commented one day, “Victoria and I seem to match each other.”

Who can argue with that? 

Then one day came this nugget of hilarious wisdom.

“Mom, every time I burp, Victoria laughs at me.  And when I make the farting noise like this, Victoria makes it too.  I think we’re right for each other!”

Love is a many splendored thing, right?  😊

Recently, our friend Barb from Paradigm sent some pictures she took as she walked with Aaron and Victoria to the popcorn shop nearby.  As Barb said, this was so genuine and sweet.

I cried when I looked at them. 

And I thought of another comment that Aaron had made about their relationship.

“Mom, can you tell that Victoria and I have a good place with each other?”

Yes, Aaron. 

And I think it’s a very good place to be.

Remind Me That I Love You

Mornings for Aaron are definitely the time of day that he struggles the most.  It can really be hard for him to get out of his warm bed and face the day.  Not every morning is difficult, but let’s just say that for Aaron the majority of mornings do not have a right side of the bed.  Both sides are wrong!

Aaron realizes this about himself.  Therefore, sometimes he will tell me to give him a morning reminder that will hopefully help him to be cheerful.  The reminders are about something that the day will hold…something that he is looking forward to and so will encourage him to get up happily. 

For instance, he loves going to Meals on Wheels on Thursday mornings but sometimes he knows on Wednesday night that he may be grouchy the next day.

“Mom,” he says, “tomorrow morning if I don’t want to get out of bed just say Buster.’’

Buster is the little dog at one of our homes that Aaron loves to see and to pet.  And Buster loves seeing Aaron. 

Or on Valentine’s Day, when we were going to pick up roses to take to his day group friends, he knew the night before that he might be irritated about getting up.

“Mom,” he told me, “if I start getting mad in the morning just say roses.”

I love Aaron’s plan of action.  I know he truly does want to be nice in the mornings.  Sometimes his plan works, and well, other times it doesn’t.

One recent evening we were watching a favorite show.  Aaron was all comfy and relaxed on the couch, legs covered in his ever-present blanket, and enjoying a yummy snack.  He was the picture of contentment.

Such was not the case hours earlier as we worked to get Aaron out of bed and on his way for the day.  That morning he was the picture of frustration and anger.

As we sat on the couch enjoying our program, Aaron was filled with happiness.  He finally looked over at me.

“I love you, Mom,” he said.

The moment was genuine and so sweet.

“I love you too, Aaron,” I replied. 

Then he seemed to remember our unhappy morning.

“Tell me I said that in the morning when you’re getting me up,” he added.

His words were a stop-me-in-my-tracks moment.

How many times in my life have I been filled with contentment as things are going well?  Then it’s easy to tell God that I love Him.  And I mean it when I say those words to Him. 

But sometimes the bottom falls out. 

Gary and I had been married for five years before Aaron was born.  That positive pregnancy test was SO huge to us!  How thankful we were!  How full of love for God and His sweet blessing in our lives!

Now here we are, 37 years later, in a place we never dreamed we would be with Aaron. 

Seizures.  Autism.  Behaviors. 

Can I still lift my eyes to God and tell Him that I love Him?

Those warm fuzzy ecstatic moments of my first pregnancy are long gone. 

In their place are many moments of worry, sadness, frustration, and bone-wearying exhaustion.

But here’s the thing.  I know God in a deeply personal way. 

And I know that often His ways in my life are filled with heartache and pain so that I will grow to be more like Jesus.

God hasn’t changed one little bit.

But He calls me to change, and His word tells me that this change toward likeness in Christ will involve the hard things. 

Sometimes I have to will myself to remember all the reasons I have told God that I love Him.

And those reasons cannot be based on my circumstances that are happy and fun.

The reasons I love God are based on WHO He is…His character and His attributes.

I cannot base my love for God on how comfortable I am.

So, like Aaron, there are times in my life when I need to look at God and ask Him to remind me that I said I love Him.

Through my tears, fears, anger, hurt…through all the questions I have about God’s reasons and logic in my life…I must not lose my love for God.

Oh God, tomorrow…when things aren’t going too well, and I feel upset…remind me that I said I love You. 

Remind me that You are the same yesterday, today, and forever.

And remind me of how very much You love me, too. 

Here’s A Rose!

Once again, this year our friend Jody at our local Dillon’s store made sure that Aaron had a box of beautiful red roses to take to his day group on Valentine’s Day.  And this year, unlike last year, Aaron did stay at Paradigm (his day group) all day.  Special days are hard for Aaron – too many expectations on a day full of a party atmosphere.  It all drives Aaron a little crazy. 

My favorite picture of the morning was Aaron’s sheer delight after giving a rose to Antoine, one of his favorite staff. 

Antoine takes Aaron to QuikTrip on most days.  He is so very patient and understanding with Aaron, even when Aaron’s exuberance is a bit much. 

I captured pictures of Aaron giving a rose to Barb, our dear friend in so many ways.

And to Victoria, his very special friend.

Last week Jody saw to it that Aaron and I also had roses to hand out to our Meals on Wheels clients.  Look at the loveliness!

Aaron enjoyed taking a rose to each door and handing one to each of our sweet clients. 

I relish seeing the way Aaron loves giving those roses away.  These are memories tucked happily into my heart. 

Thank you to Jody and to Dillon’s for making those two fun days possible.  The kindness shown and the memories made are truly priceless!