The party is winding down. Most of the people have gone home. The amount of tomato and hamburger hotdishes are dwindling in the freezer. There is an end in sight to the stack of thank you cards that I am still working on. Reality is setting in and Trent is still in heaven. My brain is still foggy and slow most days and little things bring me back again to the reality that he is gone. Walking sticks that he was working on, a card that he forgot to give me, letters in the classroom mailbox, a picture on the fridge, a glimpse of the remembrance of his smile and kisses. Looking in the pantry and realizing that one day I will have to go grocery shopping again and make the big decisions of what kind of cereal to buy and how many bags of tator tots we need. The little things that made the big differences are being realized. The boy who loved Ramen noodles when the rest of us tolerated them is gone. The blue box will sit for months on the shelf as a reminder. The school books he left behind as well as the dirty laundry that will sneak it's way into the washer will bring back the reality over and over again. The house is a little quieter, and cleaner if you ask Traci, even though the dishes still don't get done on Monday's or the kitchen floor swept. My heart still aches and tears wet my face. Thank the Lord that He protects us from this being an overwhelming flood that longs to destroy. Though the waters come up to our neck they will go no further. Our God has ordained His plans perfectly, and again we will rejoice in them.