Just before bed each night Ty has a little crying spell—we call it his bedtime blues. The crying has nothing to do with having to go to sleep, it's more like a tiny bout of depression he goes through as he recounts the things he'll miss from that day.  Most of the time it's Mema that he cries about. He tells us how he misses her and how he simply can't wait all night long to see her again. We remind him of the fun they had that day and that like the promise of the sunrise, she will come again. 

Other nights, Mema is replaced by a fictional character from a movie we've seen that day like E.T. the Extra Terrestrial or Wall-e.  He genuinely cares about the characters in the movies we watch. He wonders if E.T. will get home okay or if he'll come back someday to visit. 

And yet, other nights, his sadness is spent on someone or something new that brought meaning to his day. Tonight it was the fireflies. After we spent an hour in the yard catching the little buggers, it was time to release them back into the summer air. I had wrongly assumed that Ty was aware that we wouldn't keep them forever. His face lost all expression when I exclaimed, "Okay boys—now take the lids off and let 'em go"! As heartbroken as he was he understood. So, with tears streaming down his face he popped off the lid and shook his plastic cup. As each glowing firefly flew into the darkness he asked if they would remember him.

I answered, "How could they forget? They just met the most amazing, sensitive little boy on earth. They'll never forget you, Ty."