You can try the best you can. The best you can is good enough.

Exactly four years ago today my friend A gave birth to her second child. A and her husband are a bohemian couple. She is the daughter of a very prominent, high profile lawyer. She has her Master's in Public Health and works in setting up healthcare in inner city schools. Her husband has at least a dozen tattoos all over his body and rides a Harley. A gave birth at the hospital we used to work at. I left work early to visit her and see her new little boy. I stopped Little Italy and picked up some of her favorite treats including a huge cup of fresh Italian ice. She looked tired but relieved. I held JoJo (as I affectionately call him) and marveled at how precious his tiny fingers were. As visitors streamed in and out, the mood was so light and wonderful. I left her room feeling great and went to pick up the Boy who at the time spent Friday's with my dad. At one and a half the Boy had my father wrapped around his finger. Friday's were their days and I'm not sure which one of them loved their time together more. D called my cell and said he was running late so he wouldn't be able to make our traditional Friday dinner at my parent's house. (My parents used to live 5 minutes from us). He said he would meet us at home.

Exactly four years ago today I came home with the Boy and found D standing at the door with the phone in his hand and a stunned look on his face. His only brother had died suddenly. There were little details as T lived in another state. The next few days were a blur of activity as D flew with his mother and sisters to Arizona to bring home T's ashes. D cried only once during that entire time. It wasn't when he found out. It wasn't as he sifted through his brother's belonging trying to piece together the details of a life no one really knew anything about. It wasn't even during the funeral. The only time I saw D cry was when my dad saw him at the funeral home and gave him a big fatherly hug and held him tight.

To mark February 1st, we had a Fantastic February Feast (D picked the name). We made pancakes and scrambled eggs and sausages for dinner (the Boy picked the menu). I made a cake which tasted horrible because I was so distracted with work that I forgot to add eggs to the mix. D and the Boy said it wasn't that bad while the Girl gave me a look like "you can't make me eat that crap." The Boy has taken to annoying me by inserting the word "butt" whenever possible while he and D will talk about the Solar System just so they can say "Uranus" and collapse into uncontrollable laughter. Meanwhile the Girl struts around like she's the Queen of England giving one word commands: Milk. Up. Down. And her personal favorite; NOOOOOOOO. Our dinner was originally meant to celebrate the fact that January was over and we are one month closer to Spring. In the end I think we just celebrated being together.

(Footnote: For our March Madness Meal (March 1st if you wanna mark your calendar) I've already added vodka to the menu.)