When I was little, I lived in an old house in an old part of the city.

My room was up in an attic with sloping ceilings and extra closets.  I had a cat with no hair named Phoebe and a collection of trolls that rivaled my collection of books.

I loved cheese sandwiches.  I hated baths.  And I was terrified of the alley behind our house.

When I was little we would fill the entire street with chalk.  We rode our bicycles to the library once a week and caught snakes in the backyard.

Sometimes I forget that I was little.  It's easy to.

But I was.
 
My bed was by the window and I could see into the kitchen next door.  I'd fall asleep watching her wash dishes and talk to someone in another room with a smile on her face.

I'd fall asleep dreaming about what life was like outside.

Now I sometimes lay in bed and want nothing more than to be small enough for someone to wrap themselves around me completely.

I watched a documentary tonight with my dad.  It was of a man who was born with no limbs and he said that there are two answers that everyone wants to hear.

We want to know who we are.

And we want to know that everything is going to be ok.

I know who I am.  But I would love to hear that everything is going to be ok.

I know that one too.  It's just nice to hear.

We started packing up today.  I was feeling a little blue so we put Dean Martin in and sang along.

Dean Martin makes me think of my grandma because she loved him.  I took him when she died and he's gotten me through the crazy unsure times.

It's in the way he sings about slow boats to china and glow worms.

And that gentle assurance.  That everybody loves somebody sometime.

Someday I am going to sing those songs to my children.  And I am going to have an attic that they feel safe and tucked away in.

And everything is going to be ok.

Because I do know who I am.  And I know that I am loved by Him.