Navigating Hell: A Real-Time Journey Through Grief

By McKenna Lisa Cole

Lifeless among the ashes. No light. No sound. Shattered...

Accustomed to a life of independence and adventure, McKenna finally found herself in a relationship with the man of her dreams. The two of them, his three kids, and his parents spent a perfect d

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trilogy Christian Publishing
• Release date: May 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9798890410504

McKenna Lisa Cole

MCKENNA LISA COLE has been a journalist, editor, policy researcher, fitness expert, singer/songwriter, classical pianist, sports enthusiast, and dog mom, among other things. Born in Bakersfield, California, McKenna earned an AA in speech communication from Bakersfield College, a BA in political science from the University of Washington, and an MA in political management from The George Washington University. She currently resides near Houston, Texas, where she is actively involved in the worship team and several other ministries at Faithbridge Church.

Book preview

9798890410498_FrontCover.jpg

Navigating

Hell

A Real-Time

Journey Through Grief

McKenna Lisa Cole

Trilogy Publishing logo

Navigating Hell

Trilogy Christian Publishers

A Wholly Owned Subsidiary of Trinity Broadcasting Network

2442 Michelle Drive, Tustin, CA 92780

Copyright © 2024 by McKenna Lisa Cole

Scripture quotations marked BSB are taken from The Holy Bible, Berean Study Bible, BSB, copyright ©2016, 2018 by Bible Hub. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. www.berean.bible.

Scripture quotations marked ESV are taken from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®, copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™.

Scripture quotations marked NKJV are taken from the New King James Version®, copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked KJV are taken from the King James Version of The Holy Bible. Public domain.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address Trilogy Christian Publishing Rights Department, 2442 Michelle Drive, Tustin, CA 92780.

Trilogy Christian Publishing/ TBN and colophon are trademarks of Trinity Broadcasting Network.

For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Trilogy Christian Publishing.

Trilogy Disclaimer: The views and content expressed in this book are those of the author and may not necessarily reflect the views and doctrine of Trilogy Christian Publishing or the Trinity Broadcasting Network.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN 979-8-89041-049-8

ISBN 979-8-89041-050-4 (e-book)

To God

For saving me when nothing and no one else could.

For showing me the power of intense pain

and the even greater power of intense healing.

For Your grip when I lost mine.

For making and sustaining eye contact,

for not giving up on me when I wanted to give up,

and for reassembling me.

To All

Who have loved and lost,

who have been loved and lost,

and the bystanders who are at a loss for words.

Love and Thanks

This book would not be complete without thanking those who contributed to my journey and healing. I am also grateful for the sandpaper people God used to smooth my edges and refine my core. My gratitude for the following people extends well beyond the following words:

To CLH, My Fragile Little Desert Flower, for embracing me so completely and letting me love you so much. I will never stop missing you, but I pray this book cements a little piece of your legacy for the world to experience. Go Bengals!

To MLG for being a rock, mentor, guardian, bouncer, prankster, and friend. Your impact continues because your life is worth remembering. I always encouraged you to write a book. Looks like we wrote this one together. Now, the rest of the world will know and adore you, too!

To VPH whose love grew me in many ways. Loving you in return grew me in even more ways. The part of your story included in this book is one to which I’m certain many will relate. I pray that, even now, this book adds to your healing.

To BH, LH, BAH, and MVH, I never could have predicted how quickly or deeply I would love you. May your hearts always have access to more love than they can hold.

To FRH and MRH for your unconditional love and strength of spirit. I have a new understanding of how amazing you are and how blessed I am to have you as parents. You have hearts of pure platinum, the strength of steel, and the patience of saints. I love you beyond words.

To AM, your quiet strength kept me breathing when I didn’t want to or care if I did. Everything you touch is affected by the love you exude. And to AM, KM, and JH for sharing your mom with me during this dark time. PM would be extremely proud of each of you. LYPTS!

To MD, AD, LHO, SFS, GSL, SLS, APS, KKBB, DEM, KB, EKP, RP, JC, RL, FBK, JH, and TV, my love and respect for each of you—already in astronomical proportions—has grown even more through this. You were all the right people in the right places at the right times.

To the pastors, Bible teachers, and Christian authors God used to help propel this journey (and to those He has begun using in the years since) — Charles Stanley, Joyce Meyer, Beth Moore, Steven Furtick, Holly Furtick, Tony Evans, David Jeremiah, Joseph Prince, Jentezen Franklin, Christine Caine, Lisa Bevere, Derek Prince, Sheri Rose Shepherd, Louie Giglio, Ben Stuart, Ken Werlein, and many others—thank you! God uses you and your ministries as grappling hooks when I need to climb and as flashlights when I need to navigate the landscape.

To a special collection of music artists — Alan Scott and the Alan Scott Band, Superchick, Phil Vassar, Kelly Clarkson, Josh Groban, Sugarland, and Natalie Grant for your inspirational and comforting music.

To MRH, NS, KG, KOS, JSE, LB, JS, AGA, and EOP for loaning your eyes and hearts to me by being the first to read this account in its entirety. And to MH, DM, CH, CP, and RD for your ongoing love and support.

To SAJ for the reverent, loving, and surgical ways you have guided me and this book to the finish line. Your expertise has been priceless!

To those in grief, may God use this book to show you that someone understands… and that He understands even more. You will get out of the pit if/when you choose to. The climb will be peppered with unexpected and inspiring revelations. Some moments may even seem like monumental setbacks. However, you won’t know how good things can be if you quit. God’s strength is often the most obvious when ours is completely gone. You may not want to, but just keep breathing… one breath at a time. Let Him reveal Himself over time. Oh, He so will.

Table of Contents

Love and Thanks

Preface

Chapter One: A View from the Mountaintop

Chapter Two: The Day Perfection Exploded

Chapter Three: Freefalling

Chapter Four: Facing the Flames

Chapter Five: Feeling the Fallout

Chapter Six: Freefalling at Warp Speed

Chapter Seven: Hitting Bottom

Chapter Eight: View from the Bottom

Chapter Nine: Damage Assessment

Chapter Ten: Forcing the Future and Redefined Reality

Chapter Eleven: A Whole New Life?

Chapter Twelve: Distance, Time, and My Undetected Climb

Chapter Thirteen: First Glimpse of Daylight

Chapter Fourteen: New Shell, New Territory

Chapter Fifteen: New Battles, New Bearings

Chapter Sixteen: The Push for Perspective

Epilogue

Scripture References

Journal

Preface

Almost all of this book was written in real time as I navigated my own personal hell, more commonly referred to as grief . To be clear, the word hell is used here as a figurative distinction. It is not to be confused with the permanently lethal place called Hell, out of which navigating is never possible.

Within these pages, I note that grief has a fingerprint, meaning each person processes the specifics of each loss uniquely. Whether the loss is sudden or over time, it’s different. Whether it’s the loss of a child, an adult, a job, a pet, a relative, a friend, a relationship, a trust, a dream, a future, a person’s identity, or hope—it’s different. Who we were before, who we are during, and who we are after is, well, different. This book illustrates that by example. Every person in the book has a story, and you will likely relate to many of them.

This format—which intentionally reads more like a novel or screenplay than a How I Made It Through book—allows for raw and uncensored depictions of thoughts, feelings, and events. I use informal language and unconventional literary formatting—partial sentences, contractions, capitalization, punctuation, and slang—to retain the flavor of conversation and vocal inflection. I hope you feel like the two of us are sipping coffee in an intimate setting as I share this story from the beginning. The chronology allows you to walk with me step by step and connect with my journey in ways that may help you better understand and navigate your own.

Many scriptures that helped me are included in the back of this book. I realize you might not have access to a Bible, so I’m bringing part of the Bible to you. The scriptures provide greater context for many of my thoughts and feelings. However, and more importantly, I pray they offer you comfort, guidance, and hope. If you own a Bible, such scriptures can also provide a starting point if you desire to delve deeper.

Anywhere you see an asterisk (*), there’s a related scripture in the Scripture Reference section. I also include a Journal section if you wish to express yourself as you read.

My road to healing has been directly linked to how honest and transparent I’ve been. Attempts to conceal thoughts, feelings, or actions would have diluted my experiences, overly simplified my journey, and short-circuited my healing process. My innermost thoughts and feelings appear as italicized interjections, sentences, and sections throughout the book to provide the most intimate understanding of my journey. To clarify, there are also places where individual words are italicized to indicate vocal inflection.

Throughout the book, the tenses sometimes shift in and out of past and present. Considering this book was written in real time, the tenses vary depending on the time of day each passage was originally written. Many times, a day’s events were written at or near the end of that specific day. Other times, I wrote off and on throughout the day. My goal has been to provide you with this degree of raw authenticity. Italicized (internal voice) passages are the only exceptions, as they always convey real-time thoughts and feelings.

The biggest challenge I faced in writing this book was finding undiluted words to convey my experiences accurately, particularly in the darkest moments. What I discovered is that—undiluted or not—there really are no words in any language that are precise enough to capture the pain of grief and its many nuances. If you have been in such a place, you understand.

You also likely know grief is unpredictable, and the same cycles appear and reappear as one grieves. Sometimes, cycles of regurgitated agony give birth to immediately visible revelation. Other times, they dredge up additional questions. I traversed many such cycles. I sincerely hope you absorb the multiplicities and find this book a valuable resource whether you are grieving a loss or you are locked into the intricately unpredictable situation of observing someone else who is. I was doing both at the same time, which added countless layers of complexity.

Grief contains infinite uncertainties, but a few things are guaranteed—a hug, touch, word, etc., only goes so far (and not nearly as far as a griever would like). The battleground is in the most intimate depths of the soul that cannot be penetrated by any human’s good intentions. When all distractions are stripped away, grief makes us as spiritually naked before God as the day we physically exited the womb. Like it or not, a soul’s genuine desire to completely heal will lead it to a face-to-face with God. Avoiding this truth only prolongs agony and delays healing. Trust me, I know.

I pray this book is the closest you ever get to a hellacious pit. However, if you are currently in one, then I hope my uncensored honesty connects with your inner dialog in ways that calm your spirit and eventually give you the courage to climb. It is during the fall when God introduces Himself to us. It is during the healing that God introduces us to ourselves.

Chapter One

A View from the Mountaintop

Saturday, June 17th, started later than expected. I had intended to set my alarm but ultimately decided against it. After all, I’m about to spend the week in Virginia Beach with the man I love and his family, so what’s the rush? Sleeping in was probably smart anyway, seeing as I don’t stand to get much rest with a week of fun ahead. I called Nick to let him know my morning plan. I grabbed a latte at Starbucks, fueled up the car, and hit the local tanning salon to boost my pre-vacation tan before returning home to gather my things.

With luggage in tow, I was pulling my apartment door closed when my cell phone rang. With every hand and shoulder occupied, it was laughable to think of catching the call before it went to voicemail. I figured it was Nick calling for my updated ETA. I loaded my car and began the ninety-minute drive from Alexandria to Nick’s house in rural Virginia. It was noon.

As soon as I reached I-395 North, I called Nick back to let him know I was on my way. His eleven-year-old daughter, Bree, answered the phone. After a sweet but brief conversation, she handed the phone to Nick. Just as I entered the George Washington Parkway, I could hear his fifteen-year-old son, Cody, shouting something in the background.

Did you hear that? Nick playfully asked.

No, I replied. What happened?

Cody grabbed the phone from Nick. Hey girl, where are you? Are ya on your way? he asked with enthusiasm.

Yeeesssss… Relax, I chuckled.

Well, hurry up! he insisted.

I’ll be there around one thirty, I assured. Chill, baby!

I also urged him to warm up his fastball because I was planning on tattooing it into the wilderness when I arrived. Without a word, he handed the phone back to Nick, who was laughing. Evidently, Cody wasn’t in the mood for our typical smack talk when it came to the quality of his fastball. Nonetheless, in every respect, the stage had been set for me to live a day that would inevitably include watching the sunset from a perfect world. And sitting atop that world would be Nick’s house, literally and figuratively.

This life and love are what I’ve always longed for but never wanted to admit. I have pursued exciting adventures like traveling the world, attending graduate school in Washington, DC, working for the United Nations, living in Tokyo for a spell, etc. I believed in finding my family life but wasn’t sure I ever would. Now, my heart has Nick. His presence has awakened my desire to be a wife and mother. The kids and I have bonded, and I absolutely adore each of them individually. It is all in ridiculously perfect order.

It’s finally my turn to have it all. I’m passionately in love with my life!

The relationship between father and son is seamless. Nick, Cody, and I are three amigos, and our time together is always predictably unpredictable. But the beach trip will also allow me to spend more time with Bree and her five-year-old sister, Maddie. We have already decided on several specific activities, but I get the sense we’ll be adding more to the list before our toes ever touch the sand. Even the most sophisticated mind can’t anticipate the fun and antics that will transpire in Virginia Beach. None of us can wait to find out, either.

In our everyday lives, Bree frequently talks about wanting to learn piano—which I teach professionally—while Maddie and I share a love of art. Cody wants me to teach him everything I know about fitness and boxing—both disciplines of which I also professionally teach. Everyone has needed stability following Nick’s divorce, and we’ve found it. So many things weave us together! Most importantly, there’s a shared desire for a loving, secure, and encouraging home life. Savoring so many rich thoughts during my drive made me feel I couldn’t get to Nick’s quickly enough.

As I reached the countryside, I reflected on the winding road that Nick and I had traveled to reach this day. His volatile marriage had shaken his confidence in forever and shattered much of his heart along with it. But when it comes to just Nick and me, things always exceed expectations. We fit like two perfectly crafted puzzle pieces. We share healthy communication, lots of laughter, and compatible goals, dreams, and perspectives. We know that the brand of trust, respect, and love we have is rare. There isn’t another man on the planet like him or another relationship like ours.

He is still learning to draw healthy and stable boundaries with his ex-wife as they adjust to post-divorce life—a daunting challenge even under the best of circumstances. We have our moments of being empathetic toward her as she acclimates, but we are aware of her penchant for unpredictability. It is tragic, really. She seems to have tenacity, creativity, and strategic impulses—all attributes that could pave the way for personal and professional success if used positively. Nonetheless, we have successfully navigated a myriad of speed bumps, potholes, and hairpin turns that accompany such a major life adjustment, and we have grown stronger because of it. In this moment of triumphant reflection, my enthusiasm is unshakable!

I also wondered what Marlie was doing today. I first met her three years ago at the police academy when we were hired as role players—actors who assist instructors by simulating real-world scenarios to test the procedural knowledge of recruits in a controlled environment. Although in her early forties and the consummate professional when duty calls, she exudes unquenchable glee and is sharper than the sharpest tack. This uniquely multifaceted woman who grabs life by the horns has become my closest friend. Like Nick, Marlie is also adjusting to a recent divorce. Despite never having met in person, they have spent hours on the phone sharing experiences and exchanging support. It has become a valued connection that benefits them and my relationship with Nick. She and Nick have a lot in common—they are strong, sensitive, open, and stubbornly optimistic.

As my friendship with Marlie deepened, she and I started spending weekends together at her second home in Oxford, Maryland, on the shore of the Chesapeake Bay. It has become a weekend retreat for her and her closest friends, and I have never lost sight of how blessed I am to be among them. Still, this is a weekend I’ll be with Nick rather than her. I laughed as I pondered any number of fun and nutty things she might be doing without me. Every weekend is some form of party if you’re at Marlie’s place.

Starting up the winding mountain road to Nick’s house, I anticipated the fun that surely awaited me upon arrival. From barbecuing to playing ball in the backyard to arts and crafts to movie watching, the activity never matters. Whenever we’re all together, everything just fits!

Before I knew it, I drove up Nick’s newly paved driveway. He decided to have it paved so that—when I eventually move in—I will be able to safely maneuver my car on its steep grade, especially in bad weather. Typical Nick… he always plans ahead and factors in my safety.

I pulled in front of the garage and parked between Nick’s unmarked police cruiser and his truck. In the distance, Cody was wielding a weed whacker in the backyard—a task I could tell from his body language was not his first choice. The day was hot and humid, but the sky was clear. As I stepped out of my car, Cody whistled and shouted to get my attention. He pointed behind the house, indicating where Nick was mowing. I walked up to Cody, both of us grinning as I approached. Rather than a formal hello, Cody snatched me into a bear hug.

You enjoying yourself? I asked slyly.

NO! he yelped with an endearing whine. Dad’s got me out here. Been doing this all afternoon. I’m hot and sweaty and tired of this!

I injected some playful optimism, "Hey, look at it this way. It gives you an incentive to hurry up and grow up, get married, and have kids, so you can make them do this instead!"

I laughed harder than he did. I guess that’s a fifteen-year-old boy for you. He understood that the fantasy of someday being a taskmaster didn’t transform his current reality of being a task doer.

About that time, my shirtless and sweaty Nick rode up on the mower. His house sits on a sizable piece of land, so I imagine yardwork feels daunting after a while. Nonetheless, he rode that mower with the pride and ease of a cowboy on the open range. He pulled up near the back of the garage as Cody and I approached. I started to hug him, only to realize his sweat-drenched skin made him look as though he’d just been hosed down. Nick immediately turned to grab a worn white shirt from the mower seat. Before drying himself off with it, he proudly pointed out that it was a Boston Red Sox T-shirt. With my deeply rooted passion for the Sox and our shared love of baseball (even though he is equally passionate about the Atlanta Braves), the shirt was a sweet reminder of how much he loves me. His grin confirmed it. After all, he’s a tried-and-true National League pitchers should bat kind of guy. For him, wearing a shirt promoting the darlings of the designated hitter-laden American League could only be motivated by love.

He put on his tattered Sox shirt as the three of us went into the house to cool off. Nick headed to the kitchen sink to wash his hands as Cody plopped onto his knees in a nearby family room recliner. He sat with his stomach and chest pressing against the chair’s back—a position that drives Nick crazy for fear he’ll break it. I sat at the butcher’s block, which was positioned between Nick and Cody. As Nick washed up at the sink, Cody looked at me with a devious grin and exclaimed, You’re ugly! He was obviously testing my reaction, but he didn’t bank on Nick beating me to it.

CODY! Nick shouted, with his eyeballs preparing to pop from his head. Struggling for coherence and standing in disbelief at his son’s declaration, Nick finally spit out, "What… in the world… just… came out of… your mouth? You apologize to her right now!"

Whereas Nick was mortified, I was unphased and entertained. Cody and I understood the humor, and he knew I would play right back and twice as hard. Before I could interject, Cody said with contrived sincerity, Okay… I’m sorry. Upon hearing that, Nick rolled his eyes, sighed, and continued washing up. However, unable to settle for the clean getaway, Cody added, You’re not as ugly as I said you were. Nick—now on the verge of spontaneous combustion—again whipped around from the sink to respond. Before he could, I calmly raised my palm with a reassuring smirk that I had things under control.

You know, Cody, that wasn’t an apology. All you did is upgrade me. Cody started to chuckle. Matter-of-factly, I explained, You’re still saying I’m ugly, just not as ugly as you first said. By this time, my smirk had evolved into an outright smile.

Allowing himself to see the humor, Nick played along, She’s right, Cody. You’re still saying she’s ugly. We all got a kick out of it, although Nick—with his signature eye roll and palm smacking against his forehead—was still reeling from Cody’s initial utterance. The focus quickly shifted to additional tasks that had to be accomplished before our barbeque guests arrived. However, Nick the Protector continued to shoot a few tight-lipped authoritative glances Cody’s way to send a final message about respect. When Nick’s back was turned, Cody and I exchanged eye rolls and silent chuckles. It was about 2 p.m.

Come on, Cody, get your shoes, and let’s go to the dump. Come on, come on, come on. We’ve gotta go! Nick insisted.

Aww, man! Cody whined. I’m hot and sweaty, and I need a shower. I don’t wanna go!

I couldn’t resist the urge to participate in the developing dramedy. You know, Cody, big, strong men like your dad go to the dump. Teeny, tiny, weak, little boys… don’t, I said, throwing down the gauntlet. It was done partly in jest but mostly to back up Nick’s parenting.

"I would never do anything you asked me to do! You could never get me to do anything you wanted me to!" Cody impishly blasted, throwing down a gauntlet of his own as a playful dare of sorts.

Nick returned to an emotional place of impending reprimand, but I, again, silently signaled I had things under control. Well, I calmly conceded, that’s completely up to you. I reiterated my previous statement with brevity: Big, strong men like your dad, holding out one hand, weak, little boys, holding out the other and pretending to weigh the options. It’s your call, buddy. Which one are ya?

Nick stood silently still, awaiting Cody’s answer. After a substantial pause—and with a sigh that could have blown out the flame on the Olympic torch—Cody reluctantly hung his head in defeat and mumbled, I’ll get my shoes. In disbelief, Nick chuckled as he shot me a how-in-the-world-did-you-do-that stare. I grinned with confidence. Little did he know I was equally baffled.

As the big, strong men prepared to leave, Nick asked me to drive the girls ten minutes down the hill to the grocery store. As he and the kids crafted the shopping list for tonight’s barbecue, I was firmly in unfamiliar territory. I have never dated a man with kids, and every previous activity has been a group one. This was about to be my first activity as the only adult.

Oh, Lord Jesus, um… okay, what do I do? This man is gonna trust me to take his kids to the store… in my car.

I am not sure why this was such a shock. After all, Nick and I have spent countless hours in recent months talking about our future. Surely, taking the kids to the grocery store will be included in that future. I guess it was just the reality of doing it rather than imagining it. I am increasingly being groomed for parenthood, and it’s starting to sink in. I never disclosed any apprehension, and by the time we were ready to leave, I decided to relax and simply roll with it.

Before Nick and I embarked on our separate missions, I walked up behind him as he stood with his truck door open. I was expecting to give him a hug and a kiss, but before I could, he whipped around and handed me his credit card.

Wait… whaaat? This man is giving me his credit card, too?

At that moment, we were functioning as a family. Nick had no reservations. Neither did the kids. They acted as if this was something we’d been doing for years.

It is not that I didn’t think I could accomplish the task. It is just that—somewhere along the way—I’ve been even more fully incorporated into the family than I’ve realized. It is great, don’t get me wrong. I have heard too many horror stories from friends about stepmom initiations, so I don’t take any of this for granted. It is just such a beautiful reality.

I really am standing on top of our perfect world!

With that realization, the girls and I hopped into my car. Now, it bears noting that Nick tends to make a comment any time I drive a wee bit fast. Nick the Cop usually makes more out of it than it is. I am a far safer and more law-abiding driver than most others I know. Even so, I was so excited that, for a moment, I forgot I had the girls in the car. As the three of us drove down the driveway, I took it just fast enough to get the guys’ attention, as I would discover upon our return.

The girls and I chatted, laughed, and bonded. As Maddie sang along with the stereo, Bree and I talked about her future. On her list of hopes and dreams is the desire to become an orthodontist. I enthusiastically encouraged her to pursue whatever path would make her happy. The conversation soon shifted to how fun the beach was going to be. Bree wants to learn to body surf, and she was excited when I offered to teach her. What a great opportunity for me to focus solely on her. Being the middle child, she can probably use a little extra attention, and Virginia Beach will provide a perfect chance to offer it.

As we meandered through the grocery store, Maddie sat in the main part of the shopping cart while Bree oversaw the shopping list. Maddie pointed out things she wanted that weren’t on the list.

Oh, great. First time on such an outing, and I’m gonna have to draw boundaries right off the bat. Ugh!

It was a lot to take in for one afternoon, but the dynamic was interesting in a good way. I would lovingly tell Maddie, Nope, and then Bree would echo me. The first time was shocking enough, but Bree kept doing it. Eventually, each instance included an exchange of smiles between Bree and me that confirmed we were on the same team.

Just prior to checking out, we encountered an unexpected find—a golf ball-shaped cereal bowl. Nick is an avid golfer, so I purchased it separately for the girls to give him as a Father’s Day present tomorrow. They were very excited and grateful. I struggled to process reality. I couldn’t wrap my mind around how great everything was going. To top it off, we still had a lot of daylight left and plenty of time for things to get even better. And they did.

As the girls loaded the car, I called Nick to let him know we were on our way back to the house. Excited chatter about Nick’s bowl and our impending beach trip filled the car. Reinforcing the fun, I blasted a Kelly Clarkson CD on the drive home. They love American Idol, so I couldn’t go wrong. We drove home with the windows down and the moon roof open as we laughed and sang at the top of our lungs. Maddie kept singing the wrong song lyrics, which made us laugh even harder. How silly we must have looked. How perfectly silly.

Nick and Cody were already back from the dump when we pulled up the driveway. As the kids took the groceries inside, Nick walked toward me with a grin.

I guess I’m not the only one who notices your driving, he lovingly smirked. "Cody saw you drive down the driveway and said, ‘Boy, she’s in a hurry.’ It was an oopsie doodle on my part, and Nick knew it. Such banter usually ended in a hug and a kiss, and this moment was no different. I was lucky the driving" conversation occurred with Nick rather than Cody, as that boy would never have let me live that down.

Maddie came outside, and I did the not-so-sneaky handoff of Nick’s cereal bowl. I told her she could use the wrapping paper I brought from home and reminded her where it was. After you wrap it, make sure you hide it in your room until tomorrow, I added. She darted away on her mission. Nick stood silently with amusement and anticipation. All he received from me in return was a smile of secrecy.

I headed for the kitchen to help Bree, who had started putting away the groceries. Unfamiliar with the full details of the kitchen’s product layout, I kept asking her where different items belonged. She injected her unique brand of silliness as she instructed me, calling one cupboard the bullion cupboard and another the hamburger bun cabinet, depending on the item we were putting away. It was a simple moment, but it spoke volumes. When we met up with the guys in the garage a short time later, Bree recounted our kitchen antics as we laughed.

Ahhh… The perfect day continues!

Eventually, Cody herded us to the basketball court out back for a game of H-O-R-S-E. It was just the five of us engaged in a fun activity that reinforced our connection—one big, goofy family. When we finished up in the steamy outdoors, our family sought cooler refuge indoors. Maddie grabbed me by the hand and whisked me upstairs to her room to play. While trying to find a specific game, she discovered the devil costume she’d worn the previous Halloween. On the floor of her open closet was the devil tail, which had wire in it to give it structure and bounce ability. It gave me an idea. I sent her downstairs and swore her to secrecy about my intentions.

Nick, Maddie, and Bree were in the kitchen fixing cold drinks as I entered, complete with the devil tail sticking out of the back of my jeans. I nonchalantly walked to the sink so everyone could get a glimpse of the tail as I pretended to wash my hands. Chuckles evolved into boisterous laughter by the time Cody entered the room to see what was so funny.

What? What’s so funny? Is there something on my pants? I blankly asked as I tried to look behind me. Every time I twisted my body, the tail bobbed out of my sight. Everyone laughed even harder. Soon, I couldn’t keep a straight face, either. Everyone was smiling as if posing for a family portrait. The look on Nick’s face was priceless. I was standing in the epicenter of a powerful moment I wanted to bottle and relive at will—a moment when Nick and the kids were euphoric.

The day just keeps getting more perfect. It’s nothing short of mind-blowing!

It wasn’t long before Nick’s parents, Laura and Bill, drove up in their van, all packed and ready for tomorrow’s adventure. Nick’s friends—Danny, Nancy, and their four kids—arrived shortly thereafter, and the barbecue was underway. The process of food preparation was seasoned with additional silliness and laughter. Nick was on the back deck, fully engrossed in being the hyper-masculine Grill Master. Nothing awakens the carnivore in him more than standing over a flaming grill with raw meat. He is securely in his element—a twenty-first-century man mixed with a dash of caveman.

In the meantime, Nick asked if I’d remembered to make mashed potatoes for Bree. The project had slipped my mind, so I bolted inside to whip them up. That girl loves mashed potatoes, so the potato test could not be downplayed in importance. Luckily, Bree thought the mashed potatoes rocked. Eventually, everyone but Nick and I were eating. I went outside to check on him as he stood over the grill.

Eat! Please, please, please, grab a plate and eat while it’s hot, Nick urged. I imposed myself between the grill and Nick, and I slipped my arms around his waist as I gazed up at him. "Nope… I eat when you eat," I said with a stubborn grin. He wanted to fight that idea, but he acquiesced. We exchanged a hug and a kiss before I returned to the kitchen to ensure the side dishes stayed warm for us.

Within a minute or two, Nick flew into the kitchen, set down a plate with burgers on it, grabbed my hands, and said a quick blessing. I was stunned. Since our first date, I’ve initiated the