Thresholds

If I didn't have 5 hours to kill on this flight back to Seattle, I probably wouldn't have time to write. Story of my life these days. But it's so worth it! These crazy past few weeks have led us to another Thanksgiving in New Hampshire. And boy, was it a good one!

Some of my favorite things about going home (other than seeing family for the first time) is rounding the corner to see my childhood house. It's a sight I felt comforted by back when I lived there, and possibly even more so now that I don't! The outline has changed. Dad has long since removed the old solar panels from the roof (no point when they don't work). Plus, there's the brand new addition and the beautiful back deck, complete I both a stone fireplace.

Mom and Dad have done some wonderful work on it. As much as I dislike change, these have been changes for the better. We still remember the way things were, and we can see them in home videos and photos. But these improvements make this house feel lived in! It's like they were always meant to be. My grandma and aunt seem settled into their apartment. Dad's basement room is the perfect hangout for the guys when the fire isn't warm enough for them to be out on the back deck. There's still some work to do, but it's looking good.

I've loved seeing the house change and grow, just as our family is changing and growing. Thanksgiving was a mighty celebration, full of gratitude that we could all be there together. My grandma (on Dad's side) suffered two strokes only a week or two ago, but she came and was able to stay quite awhile! And then there were the kiddos. Not one, not two, but FOUR babies were there (plus another on the way). Seeing the next generation play together, smile at each other, or just sit there looking adorable, was a really neat thing. It's like we've crossed a threshold, where the kids have become parents and the parents have become doting grandparents. Everyone seems to have stepped into their new roles joyfully (in spite of the challenges they bring--whether baby woes or "growing [older] pains"). I can't wait for future holidays, when the little ones are old enough to make up games with each other and become friends, as we cousins did. It's an exciting time!

And while we're not on the whole baby bandwagon yet, we're just as thrilled with how our extended family is changing. I LOVE LOVE LOVE being an aunt! And I'm pretty sure my nephew is one of the cutest babies I've ever seen. Rocking him to sleep, making him smile, and knowing that you're holding someone who shares your family's blood...I can't even find words for it! "It's AWESOME!" as my sworn brother would say. :-) Watching my cousins and siblings grow as parents has been awesome too. They give me hope, that I can do it too someday. That the sleepless nights and constantly changing plans are so worth it. And I'll admit, it melts my heart to see my husband as an uncle. His "dolphin squeak" had Benja giggling right from the start...and it didn't get old! (Don't you love how you can count on babies to laugh at all your antics? It's amazing what you find yourself doing for the sake of a baby's entertainment--like hopping up and down while puffing out your cheeks like a chubby bunny...not that I have personal experience...)

I summed up our vacation with the following Facebook status. I only got about three hours of sleep because of it, but when the muse strikes, I must write. It lists some of the things about the past six days that I'm so grateful for, even the hard stuff.

10 Conclusions from our NH Thanksgiving:
1) Pretty sure I have the cutest nephew around.
2) It doesn't matter how many times you eat Thanksgiving leftovers--it's still the best meal of the year!
3) I have never been so close to winning Settlers of Catan...nor shall I ever be again if I keep playing with my husband, sister, and bro-in-law.
4) The fox says, "Silence! I kill you!" (Trust me, we saw one.)
5) I actually like having my birthday close to Christmas, because it let me have the most beautiful, holly decorated birthday cake. (Thank you, family, for the sweetest pre-birthday party! Blowing out 26 candles wasn't so bad after all.)
6) My big sister is a super mom AND my BFF.
7) I'm grateful for a supportive husband who loves seeing me go all "New Hampshire native" for a few days.
8) There's nothing like a seeing the next generation at our family Thanksgiving. So cool!
9) I'll never be too old for Mom's snuggles, Dad's bear hugs, or Gramma's stories.
10) Having family who are also your friends is something I'm grateful for 365 days a year...and saying bye never gets any easier.

Christmastime Is Here

I'm always chomping at the bit when it comes to celebrating Christmas. I do celebrate Thanksgiving and I don't mean to rush it. (I've always thought of it as the first day of the Christmas season anyway, prepping our attitudes and hearts for advent.) Still, in my opinion, less than one month isn't enough to fully experience "the most wonderful time of the year!" So, I usually hang back, keep my Christmas excitement to myself, maybe do a bit of shopping here and there, start generating ideas for our annual newsletter, plan gatherings, and start my advent meditations as soon as the thought arises!

But this year is a little different. A mere three days after returning from Thanksgiving with my family, we'll be leaving for New Zealand--where summer is just getting underway and adventure awaits! (I won't pretend my love of Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit had nothing to do with choosing this vacation spot. You'll be hearing much about our visits to Hobbiton and Rivendell in the near future. Rest assured.) Since we're spending a good chunk of December far from home, I started getting worried about how this holiday season would pan out.

I have a feeling we'll be too busy taking in all the newness of New Zealand to take enjoy many of our traditional pastimes--carols, cookie baking, Christmas music on the radio, classic holiday films, Christmas parties etc. It makes me a little sad, but the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity seems to outweigh that loss. I think I'll be in travel mode and not stop to think about what I might be missing.

"It's Christmas in New Zealand too, you know!"

Yes, thank you. I'm well aware of that. In fact, I'm giddy at the prospect of being in a different country to see how they celebrate Christmas...as a summer holiday, particularly! I'm excited to meet new people and try our hand at living like kiwis (New Zealanders) for a few weeks--at least, nomadic, campervan-traveling kiwis? *sigh* Fine, like tourists! Regardless, it's going to be a unique experience. And, since winters in WA aren't very magical to begin with, we'll be happy to escape to summer for a little bit. (It's not like we're trading in snow, because that might've been another story. I love snow!)

While we're preparing to pack our warm-weather clothes and planing our trip, I'm also thinking about Christmas. Super Husband has given me permission to decorate the house before we leave for Thanksgiving (I have some cedar boughs from my MIL waiting to be made into a wreath ASAP!). And since my half of the family is out east, we'll be bringing all their Christmas gifts with us too...so I've begun shopping/crafting with gusto! Our Christmas newsletter is drafted, but I'll wait to add snippets of travel stories and maybe a photo or two. We'll keep our event schedule pretty basic this year, but might fit in the Pacific Northwest Ballet's "Nutcracker" after we get back. So overall, we won't be missing that much. I just want to be prepared and later look back on this holiday season without regrets.

I understand (and fully agree with) all the frustrations with "commercialized Christmas," made evident by the way some stores have jumped the gun. I get that not everyone is ready to celebrate just yet. Or that the thought of the holidays brings dread to some people. (Sad, but I know it can be truly tough.) But please, don't roll your eyes at me when you see me getting ready for Christmas early this year--I just want to make sure it's celebrated well, and that I'm preparing in a way that prevents stress and busyness later. After all, it's Jesus' birthday! Jesus come to Earth to rescue us! That's reason enough to celebrate...all the time!

Looking forward to sharing this special time of year with many of you! Give yourself permission to start getting ready for Christmas! It'll be here and gone before you know it. And if you're in my shoes and crossing the date line, you get to "skip" one day and live another day "twice!" (Won't that be bizarre...)

Renaissance Woman or Dilettante?

It's the story of my life--too many interests, too many "favorites," and none of them seem to fit together. Throughout my life, I've "seriously considered" (as serious as a youth can be about these things) living in Australia, China, England, Ireland, New Zealand, Hawaii, Alaska, or Florida. My favorite colors are blue, green, brown, and sometimes purple. In terms of fashion, I don't think my style fits anywhere--"I like what I like" was my eloquent response when my mom tried to suggest what my style might be (now you can see why I didn't get far in my modeling career). My hobbies have included being a musher, fisherwoman, Irish dancer, actor, photographer, archer, artist, and writer...mind boggled yet? Mine too!

When I was about 9 or 10, I remember lying awake one night, feeling torn over all my "favorite" cultures. At the time, I was going through an Asian kick, wondering why on earth we weren't at least a tiny bit Chinese. BUT, I already loved Native American stuff (one thirty-second Blackfoot, baby! I hung on to that!) and was discovering our Irish heritage (it was around the time I began Irish step dancing). Of course, I always loved huskies and dog sledding, so throw a little Eskimo in the mix. Plus, I really loved India as a child, because of my early discovery of elephants and all those beautiful, colorful saris. Oh, and Africa! It has elephants too! See my dilemma? Since then, I've accepted that I'll never be Chinese, Eskimo, Indian, or African. *sigh* But I still jump at chances to learn about or experience them more.

It's the same with music. I dread the question "What kind of music do you like?" I usually have to pick one on the fly, but my music collection is a messy melting pot. On any given day, I may listen to Celtic, Indie, instrumental (movie scores make up a huge part of this), contemporary Christian, world, pop, Christmas, AND Disney music. Seriously, I think I give my MP3 player whiplash. Why do I have to narrow it down? This way, I can pick whatever suits my mood. Need some extra encouragement? Contemporary Christian it is! Feeling bubbly? Disney songs are always a nice pick-me-up or a keep-me-up. Variety is the spice of life!

And forget books! I've devoured books in every genre and can't really tag a favorite. I suppose fantasy literature has the longest track record, but I can't really name any contemporary authors for you...in fact, I'm horrible at remembering author names, book titles, and plots in general...so don't ask me for recommendations, or you'll get what I myself am reading at the time (because I'll have seen the cover enough to retain that info for at least a month). However, I can recall that I did, once upon a time, read that book you mentioned, and possibly remember whether or not I liked it. (This makes me a novelty among my fellow English-degree holders and copy editors.)  It's often about impressions for me--I've loved many stories that seemed to come at opportune times in my life, or that touched me deeply. So, no hard and fast "favorites" in the book category.

See a pattern?

My freshman year of college, I discovered the word dilettante--defined by Webster's as "a person having a superficial interest in an art or a branch of knowledge," synonymous with "dabbler" and "amateur." With horror, I thought I'd found the word to describe me in my countless interests. Only a few months before, my college interviewer had tagged me "a Renaissance woman" for having been involved in so many activities and pursuits. I clung to her description, thinking this was the phrase which accurately described me. And in one fateful vocabulary lesson, this "Renaissance woman" was reduced to an unaccomplished dilettante, never going beyond a superficial knowledge of the things I thought I loved.

I never made it to Open Championship in Irish dance. Mushing never want farther than a few runs on trails through the woods with my two huskies (what happened to that dream of racing in the Iditarod?). I've never competed in an archery competition, much to the chagrin of my instructors who told me I had potential. I quit art lessons after only a few years. I gave up on fishing for awhile after I reached the age limit for "free fishing" (it's hard for a teenager to cough up $30 for a license!). I never pursued a leading role in any stage production. I didn't excel in my photography class in college and I still can't figure out how to use my SLR camera. The only writing I've ever had published was a poem in a local poetry magazine--I don't count that one non-fiction story in our college literary magazine.

Renaissance woman or dilettante?

But the more I think on it, the more I realize those things aren't failures. I can't be perfect at everything. I can't even be perfect at one thing! None of those activities or interests were wasted time. They shaped me and brought me among some interesting people. I still enjoy ALL of those things to some degree--even if it's just the memories! However, sometimes I wish more of my interests fit together--ever tried Irish dancing while firing a bow...from the runners of a dogsled?! So far the arts (writing, photography, art/design) have been the only things that can somewhat touch each subject.

Now I'll reveal what prompted this rant. The other day I stumbled across an article about the potential for Disney to obtain the rights to Tolkien's work, with the intent of incorporating it into a theme park. Being a fan of Disney (fostering imagination, discovery, and child-likeness) AND Tolkien (his epic scope and transcendent themes), I wasn't sure what to think of this. A part of me would love to see what Disney came up with and would enjoy visiting another "incarnation" of Middle Earth. Another part of me is a purist, who's afraid they'll butcher everything I love about Middle Earth or "cheapen" it in some way.

Then the writer pulled up a quote from one of Tolkien's letters, that said he would "veto anything from or influenced by the Disney Studios (for all whose works I have a heartfelt loathing)." My heart sank a little. I don't know why I thought Tolkien, in all his deep, philosophical British-ness, would've approved of the spectacle and seemingly simplistic themes of Disney. I guess I didn't think he would ever comment on it! And that was fine by me! I didn't need his approval. But knowing how much he loathed it felt a little like a direct attack on my sensibilities. Of course Tolkien would've objected to his work becoming a theme park...heck, he probably would've objected to the movies too! (And I really loved those!)

So I think what really struck me was the idea that my favorites could be so opposed to one another. I've always known they're very different--as different as Irish dancing is from mushing! What does my liking them both say about me? Does it mean I'm being manipulated by popular culture? (I don't exactly feel as if Disney was forced down my throat.) Does having such varied interests mean I was any less dedicated to one or the other? Or that I'm a wishy-washy person? Tolkien may have thought so. I probably would've been much too "much" for him. (For the record, I think Disneyland would've catered to hobbits and Elves a like--food, song, storytelling, and some thrills mixed in for any adventure-seeking Took or Baggins. Poor Tolkien never had a chance to experience the potential for himself.)

Thank the Lord I married a man who's just as varied as I am! We laugh about how we're glad no one pulled out the "How Well Do You Know Your Bride/Groom" game at our wedding/shower, because we probably would've failed (not because we don't KNOW each other, but because a lot of those questions seem to dwell on "favorites"). I've asked him several times what his favorite candy or candy bar is...and his answer has been different every time. The only "favorite foods" he knows he can count on for me is Near East rice pilaf (yes, that brand particularly), ice cream, and chocolate. The rest changes almost daily, as I suffer from food cravings and aversions even without being pregnant. Isn't that fun? I think unpredictability can be rather nice sometimes!

And all this has led me to reflect on all the unique, albeit strange, things I've done or continue to enjoy in life. It makes me more me than if I had followed one particular thread. If I'd been a strict Disney fan and read/watched nothing else, I would've never discovered Tolkien or Lewis! If I'd been a professional musher, I'd probably be living in Alaska with my 85 dogs, without having met my husband in a small Pennsylvanian college! If I'd made it to Open Championship in Irish dance...I'd probably have had several knee replacements by now!

As it is, I have all these experiences to draw on. It's why I have a little husky figurine on my desk at work. Why it stands right next to a carved elephant my parents brought back from Africa, which sits under my favorite photo from our last Disney World vacation! I can even pick a purple or brown ball at mini golf when someone else picks blue or green! Blessed variety!

Let's see, what other "favorites" do I have that don't really follow a set pattern?

Pancakes

Balloons

Palm trees

Lilies

Butterflies

Coconut-scented things

Baking
...
...
...

The list goes on..."ever on and on." (Thanks for that, Professor Tolkien.)

Bitter Was Their Parting

"There will be grief felt on both sides," Dad said as I was lamenting their departure. Of course, that was only three days into their visit! If I was feeling that sad about them leaving then, you can imagine how I feel today.

No two visits are the same. Each time, even if we do the same things like visit Pike Place or the Space Needle, new memories are made. "Extreme fishing" in 60 mph winds and the banter of Gladys and Walter (Mrs. B and Dad's alter egos) are among the most memorable moments.

We talk about life here--home improvements, Greg's future at his job, and starting a family someday. Yet even as the words leave my mouth, I find them bitter tasting. I have a feeling that my parents' hearts sink a little with each reference to our living out here for many more years...because mine sinks too. It's why I lie awake at night, wondering what it'd be like to pack up our life here and head east. Even though I know better than to indulge in false hopes, it sounds so easy sometimes.

After my visit "home" last spring, I returned west feeling pretty depressed, even though I shed no tears at our parting (which was a first!). A dear friend encouraged me in an email, saying, "I admire you, Tiffany, for your courage and commitment to [your husband] even though it has meant a separation from your dear family. It's truly beautiful, in the Lady Arwen sense." I smiled sadly when I read this. I hadn't thought of it that way before.

If you know me at all, you know how much I love Tolkien's books. So my friend's reference to Arwen shouldn't have come as a surprise. When I used to read the story of Aragorn and Arwen, how he was smitten from the first moment he saw her, how they pledged their devotion to each other on Cerin Amroth, etc., I saw only romance. Even Arwen's choice to forsake immortality and bind herself to the mortal man she loved seemed the heroic and "easy thing to do"--a typical "forbidden romance," if you will. I dreamed of having a story like theirs and wondered what it'd be like to give up something for love. My thoughts typically strayed toward giving up childhood and leaving the shelter of my parents' care for that of my husband. I couldn't fully understand how much that choice would cost and just how hard it would be.

Then, when my own love story unfolded and I found myself facing similar separation from the places and people I love, I somehow forgot their story. (Well, not forgot. It just didn't come to mind like it would've in the days where I drew parallels between the worlds on a frequent basis.)

What a perfect time to be reminded, when I needed that bolstering of hope and a reminder of how this life and love is so worth it! Tolkien understood the meaning of sacrifice and love. (I won't try to "moralize" his work, but one who has been saved by Grace can't help but recognize themes all around her which point to the One who sacrificed most.) Of Arwen's final farewell to her father, whom she couldn't follow to the Undying Lands once she'd bound herself to a mortal, Tolkien says, "Bitter was their parting that should endure beyond the ends of the world." I read over this passage again after my friend's note. And I thought to myself, "I know this!" I have to re-taste that bitterness each time they or we leave again. I read on about how Aragorn and Arwen's family grows, how she embraces her role as queen of Gondor, and how even at the end of Aragorn's life, when faced with yet another bitter parting...Arwen doesn't break! If only that could be said of me.

That's been my prayer today--that Jesus wouldn't let me break. That He'd keep holding me together, even when it feels like my heart breaks all over again with each goodbye. I've accepted that tears are very often a part of the letting go. And that's okay. All I have to do is tell my Love that the tears are close and he's ready and waiting to comfort me with warm hugs and gentle words. He's getting pretty good at this. I'm so glad to have pledged myself to this man--there is no going back to my "Rivendell," and while there is great sorrow in that, there is even greater joy.

Mom and Dad still have a way of caring for us, forever their children, even when we're living under our own roofs. It was nice to get to return the favor in some small ways, and even then, they couldn't seem to stop blessing us with help and surprises this week. I'm still amazed at how they drop everything to travel this far just to spend some time in their daughter's new "realm." And I'm certainly pleased that they like it and want to keep coming back! :)

Dad was right--there was and will always be a little grief on both sides when we have to part. But unlike Arwen, I don't have to say goodbye for good. (Thank Jesus!) I'm just returning to "my new normal"--as you've so often heard me speak about--until it's time to take an eastward journey again.

Back to School

Today was the first day of school for many areas of the US. I've seen all my teacher friends and friends with kids post pictures on Facebook of all the "first day" pomp and excitement--new outfits, perfect hair, gleaming school supplies, and smiling faces at the prospect of the new year. I find myself sharing in the giddiness, but mainly because this "new year" signals the start of a season that leads to the holidays! Halloween/Harvest, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years...all neatly in a row!

In a way, yesterday was my "first day of school" at my new Irish dance school. Sitting in the parking lot (full of mini vans), waiting to go in, I had some of the same anxious feelings as that first day at a new school. That knot in my stomach about who I'd stand next to, what I'd say, and who my friends would be. It was kind of laughable. How old am I?!

I did much more in this first official class: learning steps, meeting people, and pushing myself more. I ended up sweaty and exhausted, but my muscles feel better than after my trial run two weeks ago. The kids all chatted about their first day of regular school in the morning, and I smiled because I was thinking some of the same things about what this new "class" would hold for me. Hopefully friendships, good health, stronger muscles, and the chance to continue in this dance form I love so much.

The other "20-somethings" were MIA last night, but they told my teacher to apologize to me, and that I'll meet them in the coming weeks. I don't terribly mind being the minority age-wise--after all, I was the oldest in both of my archery classes and several acting auditions, and the youngest by far in my Zumba class (it was a Friday morning session, so it wasn't so surprising)! I've just come to expect the age gap with all the new things I attempt to learn and try out. :) But, I am happy there will be others this time, who may be easier to relate to. Talk of cheer camp and homework can only go so far. I'm happy to be 25, let me tell you! Sure, there's "drama" and hormonal/emotional roller coasters in life as an adult, but of a different type. I love coming home to my husband after class, folding laundry, and enjoying a late-night snack on the couch with him before bed. It's a good life!

My dance teachers, a married couple, are quick to praise. I'm noticing that in their teaching style in general. They're encouraging and point out errors graciously. You can tell they truly love this--that it's not so much of a business as a place for them to be creative with dance and watch their work come to life through us dancers. (And, I'll admit, I'm pretty thrilled to be taught by some retired Lord of the Dance and Trinity dancers!) Even this morning, I found an email telling me I did great. I was tickled pink at this gesture after my first visit, and now I just shake my head in wonder. Do they mean it? Or are they trying to "wine and dine" me to keep me around? I'm leaning toward the former, from what I know of them and their personalities so far. It was nice to be encouraged, especially when I feel so out of shape and limited in what my body can handle. I know it will get better, and I loved falling asleep while running steps in my head, feet tensing and kicking at the sheets subconsciously, like they used to. 

It's good to be back. (Now when did I ever say that of regular school?!)

Wishes for Gramma

Two weeks ago, we celebrated my grandma's 87th birthday. For some reason, this age really struck me--partly because it means she's a lot closer to 90 than I imagine. To me, she's still my spry "Gramma" who played Twister with us when we were in jr. high and splashed in the pool with us when we visited family in Florida. I still deal with a measure of disbelief when my Mom talks about Gramma having a dizzy day or not being able to walk as long as she used to. When I see her, she's still as sharp and wonderful as ever. I just have to remind myself that she's aged a year (or half a year) since I last saw her. With that comes changes.

That's why I'm forever grateful for the way we celebrated her 82nd birthday. It was the kind of experience that ingrained itself in my mind, so I always imagine Gramma like she was that summer. (How can that be five years ago already?) To some, it might be the strangest way to celebrate a grandmother. But not to us.

We went to Disney World! My sister had just graduated college and I was going into my junior year. When the job search proved futile for both of us, we decided to do something wild and different. Rather than wallow over our joblessness and be bored, we'd plan a memorable vacation. What's the dream vacation spot? Disney World, of course! (I've never been to Disneyland...except in utero when my Mom and Dad visited California...so I refuse to debate this. And of course, there are thousands dream vacations out there. But, for the sake of this blog post, please agree with me on this one.)

When we told Mom, she mentioned that my aunt, and maybe even Gramma, would love to go too! Our Aunty D is a high-functioning, sweet, and thoughtful lady who happens to have down syndrome. She and Gramma live together, which is a blessing on many levels--Grandpa has been gone a long time (it's a strange thing to miss someone without ever really having met them), so Gramma and Aunty D take good care of each other. And, like me, Aunty D loves Disney! We both enjoy the movies (classic and new) and all the music associated with them. She hadn't been to Disney in two decades (count 'em, 20 years!) and had mentioned she'd like to go again sometime.

Well, that "sometime" was now! My sister and I were thrilled to tell them, and we couldn't believe it when Gramma's response to the invitation was an unhesitating yes! We expected her to be nervous about the long days in the sun and not interested in all the rides at Disney World. But her enthusiasm for our vacation made us kick into high-gear planning mode! We looked for comfortable hotels with them in mind and rented a wheelchair so Gramma could be off her feet while we toured the parks. It was going to be a "girls getaway," and it happened to fall on Gramma's 82nd birthday!

Before we left, I wasn't sure how other guests and park cast members would react to two young adults vacationing with their grandmother and disabled aunt. Would they shake their heads at us? We're we crazy to even attempt it? Knowing (and loving) my aunt and grandma, I knew we'd enjoy the time together, but I was afraid of others making it difficult or emotionally hard for us. When I expressed these concerns to Dad, he said we could be a testimony to the blessing of family. He said we could be an example of respecting our elders and enjoying friendship with them, regardless of age or abilities. So we moved forward with faith and prayed that God would use this time to bring the four of us closer together.

And He did! We had the best time! Not only was the slower pace more relaxing, we got to really enjoy the themes and storytelling of the parks. The wheelchair worked out great and we were surprised at how kind and helpful the cast members were! Sometimes we'd be waiting patiently in line, not worrying about our time table or the crowds, and they'd bring us to the front of the line through a special entrance! Totally unexpected and really special if you think about it. Better yet, people in line didn't seem to get mad at us or judge us for "abusing the system" (Gramma's wheelchair was certainly not about getting in the fast lane!). And it gave us plenty of time to see it all.

Some of my favorite moments were the shows we watched together, sometimes singing or clapping along. All four of us appreciate good music and it wasn't a surprise that we enjoyed this aspect of the parks. Some other favorite moments were sitting with Gramma in the shade, waiting while my sister and Aunty D went on some of the fast-paced rides together. We'd talk and, as always, I loved asking her questions about her life. It was treasured time. (Note: Gramma DID go on quite a few "less-tranquil rides," including Pirates of the Caribbean and the backwards-dropping Viking boat tour. She's a champ!)

I was also delighted by the way Gramma's humor bubbled to the surface at "the happiest place on earth." One of my favorite quotes from the trip was whenever one of us said, "Where are we going?" Gramma would throw up her hands and reply dramatically, "We're goin' CRAZY!" It made us smileevery time. Believe me, you ask that question a lot at Disney World! And it always lifted any weight from my shoulders to hear Gramma laugh and make light of every moment. :) We were going crazy--crazy with excitement and fun!

On August 10th, we went to EPCOT. I requested a birthday button for Gramma and was amazed at how well the colors matched her shirt! She was a sport to wear it, and it turned out to bring her some magical birthday surprises.

We'd planned a special birthday lunch for Gramma at the Rose and Crown restaurant. It was a quiet affair, in which we gave her cards and sang. There were no candles (the waiter seemed oblivious to our hints before dessert that we were celebrating), so we used the light-up Tinkerbell toy on Aunty D's drinking straw so she could make a wish. :) We're nothing if not creative!

My Gramma is also wonderfully patriotic. So we were excited to visit the American Adventure pavilion and see the show. It turned out WAY better than we could've hoped for! First, we sat and listened to an amazing a capella choir. The songs were so moving, I'm sure I saw tears in Aunty D's eyes as she sang along under her breath. As if that wasn't enough, we met the sweetest cast member on the elevator ride up to the theater. He was an older gentleman who clearly loved his job and did it well. He noticed Gramma's button and wished her a happy birthday--complimenting her on how young she looked, and I'm pretty sure he was the only one to ask, "How young are you?" :) We were led to a great seat in the theater, and when this same gentleman was introducing the show, he took a moment to congratulate Gramma on her birthday and asked her to "Give us a wave, Aileen!" while the whole crowd clapped for her. I was nearly in tears over this! It was like he knew this would be one of Gramma's favorite attractions at the park and he wanted to make it extra special.

After the show, he asked us to follow him. "We have some more celebrating to do!" He led us next door to the little restaurant attached to the pavilion. He spoke with a cast member behind the counter and returned with a little apple pie for Gramma. As he placed it before her, he called out, "Three cheers for Aileen on her 82nd birthday today! Hip, hip!" "HOORAY!" "Hip hip!" HOORAY!" "Hip hip!" "HOORAY!" everyone in the restaurant cheered.

Photo credit: http://www.thedisneyproject.com/2012/06/interview-with-lonnie-hicks.htm

I found out later that this wonderful gentleman's name is Lonnie. (I was too "in the moment" to make note of his name tag then.) I so wish I could go back and thank him again for how he blessed us on that day. I know it's all part of the "Disney magic" and cast members do this sort of thing all the time. But for us, it was an extra special memory.

We thanked him and sat down to enjoy the treat. (Because, being the wonderful woman she is, Gramma shared her little pie with all of us.) Aunty D wanted to buy a soda to go along with it, and as we stood in line, she told me through tears how this whole thing reminded her of Grandpa (who served in the Navy and was a proud American) and how she can't wait for all of them to be home in Heaven together again someday.

Wow. It chokes me up just remembering it. In that comment, through Aunty D, it was like Grandpa was with us too. This was the perfect way to celebrate Gramma's birthday that year. She was healthy and strong enough to endure the heat (and some pretty crazy wheelchair rides from her granddaughters...Weeeee!), and we made countless memories that will last us a lifetime. When I mentioned it to my sister again the other day, she said, "Aw, Disney! That was so much fun!" And every time we mention it to each other, some variation of "that was the best time" comes out.

So, that was our Disney vacation! I still smile uncontrollably when I look at photos and videos from it. (That's what all those record-keeping devices are for, right?) We've vacationed with Gramma and Aunty D to many places before and after, but this one was particularly memorable because of the perfect, celebratory circumstances, and the fact that my sis and I were still pretty new to planning travel by ourselves.

Next week, Gramma and Aunty D will be moving back in with my parents. I'm sure it will be an adjustment all around, but I can say in full certainty that I'm SO glad. Not only will this make care-taking a lot easier for everyone, it'll be great to have them so close. I love them both dearly and I'm grateful for the extra time we'll get to have when we visit. They lived with us when I was very young, so it's kind of like coming full circle!

Hopefully we'll make lots of fun memories with them in this next stage of life. I love seeing Gramma with her great-grandchildren (and hope to add my own kids among them someday!). And Aunty D's enthusiasm for life and experiencing new things always helps bring out "the kid in me." There's lots of good ahead.

So here are just a few of my birthday wishes for Gramma:

May you be full of God's peace and joy.

May He bless you with good health and happy years.

May you be surrounded by the love you so freely give.

May you enjoy the true fullness of knowing Jesus as your Savior.

And may you always "go crazy" with excitement for what God's done in your life, and how He's used to you bless others.

I love you, Gramma-ma!

Thank God for Hometowns

I already touched on our 4th of July visit to the East Coast. It wasn't until about a month later that I heard Carrie Underwood's song "Thank God for Hometowns." I found myself nodding at the chorus:

Thank God for hometowns
And all the love that makes them go round.
Thank God for the county lines that welcome you back in
When you were dying to get out.
Thank God for church pews
And all the faces that won’t forget you.
And when you’re lost out in this crazy world,
You got somewhere to go and get found.
Thank God for hometowns.

I wasn't "dying to get out," but I was anxious to be with my love out here in Washington. Our church was a few towns over, and I certainly didn't know as many people as I would've if we had gone to the public school. But I still love my hometown and there are certainly plenty of familiar places and faces, many of which I recognize though they may not know me--like the librarians that have been there my whole life, or the woman from my childhood church who always plays the spoons on the back of a bandwagon in the Independence Day parade.

I consider the whole state of New Hampshire to be "my hometown" in some way. Each town I drive through has memories or impressions of a particular life stage connected to it. From crossing the border from Massachusetts (on our way north from the Boston airport) to the northernmost towns by our family Camp, it sometimes feels like nothing has changed. Like someone hit the pause button when I left, at least to the places themselves. (When it comes to people, the changes are all too evident--the silver in my Dadda's hair, or the way my sister's little family has grown.)

Many of the towns in New Hampshire are celebrating their 250th birthdays this year. I marveled at them as we drove around the state. Banners across main streets announced the milestone. In my own hometown, the theme of the Independence Day parade was our town history. The floats all featured particular moments or particular landmarks and people of our town. I was thrilled to have Super Husband see it and get a better sense of what this place has meant to me. My favorite was the Sunday Driver Rock, a rock on the side of the road someone (no one really remembers who) painted these words:

(photo not mine)

It's been vandalized and repainted multiple times, and was most recently "edited" by a grammar freak. (Hey, I'm an editor, but even I wouldn't mess with this historical artifact!) Anyway, it was a fun tribute to one of the many quirky, "quaint" things about my hometown.

This little gem was taken on the front porch of our general store. Super Husband and I were sent on an errand and Dodge's Store (also 141 years old, I might add). It almost seemed staged--this beauty parked out front, and two elderly gentlemen sitting on the porch just chatting and "people watching" in our sleepy downtown. I felt a little foolish taking a picture, this Seattlite girl who's enchanted by old New England. But as I walked through that creaky front door to buy a bag of ice for my parents' party, I was "that girl who lives on Town Farm Road" again.

The song says, "I always find another piece of me, Walking down these old familiar streets." Now, I feel perfectly whole in my Lord, and He has eased the pain of homesickness time and time again (as this blog bears witness to). But I "get" these lyrics, because there's an element of rediscovery when you return to where you grew up. I'm faced with who I was, how I changed with the turning seasons, and why I am the way I am! I like the reminder that I came from this place. That no matter where I end up, this will always be where my journey began. And I always tell my parents, they couldn't have chosen a better town to raise a family in.

I hope my kids can say the same. That they'll thank God for hometowns too, maybe even sharing my thankfulness for this same town because this is where Grandma and Grandpa are. We'll see. Maybe someday this suburban/urban living will have a similar sentiment attached to it.