A Trip Home

About an hour ago Doug and I sat down and started researching our trip to Pennsylvania later this summer. We’ll be going for our niece’s wedding, and also for an internment service for Doug’s dad. As it usually goes when we’re planning a trip someplace, Doug asked me to look at several possibilities for travel. We researched flying in and out of Pittsburgh, flying in and out of Cleveland, flying into Cleveland and out of Pittsburgh, and then . . . finally, working Buffalo into the equation.

And the outcome . . . we’re flying in and out of Buffalo, which means I’ll have a couple days at home before the wedding. 

I haven’t been home in three years, and even then it was a quick trip. Beckett has never been to East Aurora, and I doubt Frank remembers much about it, if anything. I’ve mentioned a trip home a few times, but there didn’t seem to be a way to fit it in this summer. Last we talked about it, maybe next summer.

I’m excited to the point of tears. It isn’t a long time there, but it’s there. And that’s all that really matters to me. I’ve thanked Doug at least twenty times in the last few minutes, and I’ll probably thank him twenty more in the next couple of hours. I’m so very appreciative that he did this for me. And I can’t wait until the end of August.

The Best Memories of All

The Fourth of July has always been a special day in my family. As I’ve written about so many times before, it was my grandmother’s birthday. It is a day I spend a lot of time thinking about home, how much I miss it, and how much I miss her.

We haven’t been home in Colorado for the holiday in a couple years. Last year we were in California, and we were gone the year before too, I think we were in Pennsylvania. 

This year I was reminded once again that Monument is a wonderful place to celebrate America’s birthday, as it is home to the biggest parade in Colorado. We moved to Monument in 2006, but the boys and I arrived at the end of July. Doug was already here. I remember that year he called and said he was going to a tractor pull, and then to the parade. When he called later, he told me how big the parade was. Having grown up in a small town, I thought he was making fun. Turns out, he wasn’t. 

The parade wasn’t quite as big this year, since the holiday fell on a Saturday. If it is during the week, the Renaissance Festival participants participate. They bring horses, and even elephants—along with the king and queen of "England." We ran into one friend this year who commented on the irony of the king and queen celebrating our independence from "them." 

A very good friend of ours lives on the parade route, so we were fortunate to be able to watch from her porch (complete with shade and a very convenient restroom, not to mention . . . great company). As this year was Grandma’s first fourth in Colorado, we couldn’t miss the parade. Our cadet sponsor son texted a couple days earlier and asked if he could spend the holiday with us, which made it even nicer. 

Since I have the vision of an eagle (and thus, the only one who could actually read any of the banners), I played color commentator, announcing which groups were passing by. We decided the local news stations should set up a viewing stand next year. I’ll serve as parade narrator for everyone twenty-one and over, Frank will add commentary for those under, including which sports teams, bands, club sports are good, and which aren’t . . . and why. Beckett added that he could announce which of his friends marched in the parade, and there were many. 

When the parade ended we went to the street fair, beer garden and music festival taking place in the historic downtown. We saw lots of friends who we introduced grandma to, had a beer, and then went home to barbecue. I had been so busy up until then, I hadn’t thought about my grandmother much. When we got home, that changed.

I am in the midst of redoing a wicker chair that used to be in our camp in the Adirondacks. I've always loved the chair, and the time has come to update the fabric, and try to repair some of the wicker. Doug is helping me with it, and just the act of working on it, brings back so many memories. 

What I remember most about being in the Adirondacks, is laughter. For anyone who has read Linger, Kate’s grandmother is my grandmother. The stories about Chink and Gert, Uncle Ed and Aunt Dorothy are the non-fiction part of the book. Their names I didn’t change. This photo is of Gert, my grandmother, and my Aunt Dorothy (from left to right). The three of them are standing on the foundation of what would become our "camp." The table that sits in our dining room now, sat where the three of them are standing. From that window, we could see the inlet, the bridge and the lake beyond it. 

My grandmother had a wonderful sense of humor. Dry and sometimes a little edgy, which was made more wonderful because no one expected it. I chose this photo to post because I can tell by the look on her face and Gert’s that she just said something that made Aunt Dorothy laugh.

When I look back on my childhood, these are the best memories of all. Summer, with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and family friends. I hope that my kids will look back on this time of their lives and remember this fourth of July in the same way.  Summer, with their parents, grandmother, siblings, and family friends—the best memories of all.