When Zach walked in this morning in his cowboy outfit,
my heart just melted.
When Landon was his age, he had a cowboy outfit too.
It was my favorite.
Later today the cowboy outfit also brough a lump to my throat,
as it reminded me of a bittersweet memory with Landon.
It was Memorial Weekend 4 or 5 years ago.
(I can't remember! I swear I have dementia!)
Tim, Landon and I were at the cemetery putting flowers
on my grandparent's gravesites.
We came across a young boy's gravestone
with a horse on it. Landon asked me about it.
I explained that the site was for a young boy
who had died, and that he loved horses.
Landon thought about it for a second
and then he said,
"I know! He can have my cowboy boots!"
He wanted to go home right then and there and get those boots.
My heart was bursting with pride.
But, we explained to him that while it was a wonderful idea,
we couldn't let him do it, because you were suppose to only leave flowers.
Looking back now, I wish we would have let him leave the boots there.
We could have always gone back later to get them.
But, we were new parents and we were "following the rules"
and doing what we thought we were "suppose to."
But now, with a few years of parenting under our belts,
like a good pair of boots, we are all broken in.
They were made to be broken!
Ride on Cowboy!