When he was five, one of Benjamin's older brothers had a favorite outfit. The shorts were raspberry, and the t-shirt was lime green. He invited me to get rid of the rest of his wardrobe. I smiled, and did nothing of the kind. But he wore it every chance he got. 

 

I think the Disney button up shirt that Lukas bought for Ben is of that caliber. So far, all the photos they have sent show him wearing it, though the tee underneath changes. 

 

Ben has been brave this week. They have run from one end of the park to another, boarding those rides designed to make you confront your fears. With the support of three brothers, Benjamin has boarded too. Sometimes I think they are more convinced that they will make it out alive than he is. His hand is, after all, gripping the bar rather tightly. 

 

Let me admit that I would never be in these photos. I have not addressed my terror of roller coasters, and after a few years of coaxing, John gave up. I waited at the exit with snacks and words of congratulations. 

 

It is a miracle of circumstances when life offers us people who believe we can survive. Midwives are masters of this, as are eighth grade teachers. 

 

It is interesting to me that logic is not always involved. I can notice the long lines of people eagerly awaiting the chance to flail around in the dark, protected by nothing more than a flimsy belt. I am content to have missed out on that flavor of excitement. 

 

But the buttons on my shirt are popping to see that Benjamin didn't.