The wedding was absolutely wonderful. The weekend was magic. And this is a tease.

I took about a million pictures. And I will share many more. But for now. A little lovely glimpse. Into happiness. Into love.

Now? I need to get one kid off to school and the other two ready to head to the pediatrician so we can rule out ear infections before Thansgiving. Ah, life.

More later, friends!

This is one of those posts that I am writing for me. So I remember. Because this? This is worth remembering.

Last Sunday, we were all just hanging out. Big Girl was playing on Husband’s iPad. All of a sudden, she called out: Mom, Can I teach [Little Girl] the alphabet?

Of course, I said.

And Husband and I watched as Big Girl tapped on the screen and then brought it down to the ground in front of her tiniest sister. Middle Girl sat there too. Soon, a song began playing, a wonderful and folksy version of the ABC’s. The big sisters sang along and Little Girl? She was elated. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her this animated. She squeaked and kicked her little legs.

Look at that, I said to Husband, as we stood yards away and watched this scene. Look at that.

Now I am not a very sentimental person, but tears filled my eyes in that moment as I watched my three creatures together, happy, focused on something as simple, and important, as the alphabet. In that moment, I saw sisterhood, I saw life, I saw learning. And most of all? I saw love.

This is one of those posts I am writing for me.

But I am also writing it for them. Because maybe, one day, I will show them this. These pictures, these words. And I will say, Can you believe there was a time when you guys were that little? When your baby sister had just a shock of fuzzy hair and didn’t know her letters? You guys loved each other, and enjoyed each other, from the very beginning.

This? This is what parenthood is all about. It is hard work to raise little beings, but the rewards? They are profound.

This is not another post about Middle Girl, my newly-minted three-year-old and her pesky penchant for pink. No. It’s about something a bit more serious and sad than that.

On Monday, Sister C emailed me the link to a blog post, a beautifully written and absolutely wrenching blog post by Megan Nyberg, C’s cousin-by-marriage and a loyal reader/commenter here at ILI. In this post, Megan writes about learning that her mother has breast cancer earlier this month.

Breast cancer.

This disease has affected and afflicted too many people I know. Parents of friends, friends of parents, even some of my own friends. It seems that everyone I speak to has a personal connection to this type of cancer, or cancer in general. I certainly do.

And Megan’s post? It is exquisitely and simply rendered, but that’s not what struck me most. What struck me was the similarity between what she seems to be feeling now and what I remember feeling four years ago when Dad was first diagnosed. What struck me was the profound, if inscrutable universality of love and pain. What struck me was how much, and how deeply, I felt, and feel, for this woman, this girl, I have never met in real life.

And so. I wanted to send you guys there to Megan’s post and Megan’s blog because really she’s a lovely writer and she’s going through something novel and particularly difficult at the moment. I also wanted to remind you – and myself – that this blogging thing is important. It is. It is not all navel-gazing and indulgent whining and cutesy anecdotes. No. This world contains nuggets of truth, of life, of loss. This world might be technically invisible, a constellation of faceless beings and floating comments, but it is also very much real.

What Megan and her family are facing right now? It is very much real.

Do you have any thoughts to pass along to Megan and her family? Have you had any personal connection to breast cancer, or other kinds of cancer? Do you agree that blogging can be a very meaningful medium? Please leave a comment here, or more importantly visit Megan’s blog and read her words and leave some of your own.

They are young enough to think that sitting in the way back is a treat. And indeed it is a treat because back there, they are together. Each secure in a sturdy seat with strong straps. There is but a small space between them. And they fill that space with toys and tales.

I saw a truck wearing a hat! the littler one croons.

That is not true! the older and wiser one proclaims, her voice laced with inchoate maturity. You are just telling a story!

From the rear of the bulky black vehicle, laughter rumbles and love can be heard. Their mother looks back and sees something wonderful; That they are holding hands, their arms stretched toward one another, their tiny fingers woven over the impasse between them. This makes her more than happy, this sight. She hopes that they will do this for a long time, holding hands through minutes of days and hours of rides and days of life.

This makes her more than happy, this sight. Because isn’t this what we all want, and need, and hope for? That there is someone there, close by, a short space away, to hold our hand tight and tell us good stories, to remind us that in this big, bad, beautiful world, we are far from alone?

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Whose hand did you hold once upon a time? Whose hand do you hold these days?

Then indecision brings its own delays,
And days are lost lamenting o’er lost days.
Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute;
What you can do, or dream you can, begin it;
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Like many of you, I am often – too often – indecisive. I go back and forth and back again. I debate and deliberate and dwell. I indulge in the either-or. I waste time.

An example? For months now, I have been pondering what to name my kids on this blog now that there are three. I have asked for your help in this naming endeavor. And I have thought about it, deeply and often, this silly search for the most perfect monikers for my most perfect creatures.

Enough already.

I’ve decided. From this day forward…

Toddler will be known as Big Girl.

Baby will be known as Middle Girl.

And the newbie around here? She will enter the bloggy ranks as Little Girl.

No, these names aren’t super original, but they are cute and clear and they work. And so. There we have it.

For me this is not just about names. This is about life. How I wish I could emerge from the self-created cyclone of choices, the overwhelming ocean of options. Sometimes, it’s good to just seize this very moment and move forward.

And so I have. My girls are hereby named. And I have made an important iota of progress in this lovely little thing called life.

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Are you indecisive? Do you think women are more indecisive for some reason than men? Do you like my new bloggy labels for my little ones? Do you agree with von Goethe that boldness has genius, magic and power in it?