a beloved place and four generations

Recently we returned from a joy-filled visit to the place that feels most like home to the cells that lie deep at the core of my being.  The transition between the arid, expansive, mind-stretching mesa to the humid, comfortable, familiar, heart of the Midwest is grand.  I could never live one place without missing the other terribly.  I am grateful to love two very different places so, so much.

Place

Green.  Cardinals.  Tractors.  The muddy Mississippi.  Mucky ponds.  Life oozing, creeping, flying, buzzing, slithering everywhere.  Green.  Rivers that are called creeks but look like rivers to my western eyes. Meadows. Parks. Big, huge, gigantic trees covered in the leaves of several other creeping plants.  Green. More parks.  More cardinals.   Tall, tall grasses that just grow, on their own, without encouragement and prayers.  Green. Thunderstorms.  Tornado Sirens. Train horns.  Locks and dams.  Big bridges.  Barges. Warm rain.  Green.  Pileated Woodpeckers. Hiking trails marked by cut grass.   Forest canopies.  A sense of the heartland.  The smell of soybeans. Green.  Green.  Green.  

People

Gramps playing peek-a-boo-chase with his great-grandsons.  

Grams successfully indoctrinating her great-grandsons with a great love for the Mississippi.  

Discussing doomsday scenarios with a wry-smiling Uncle Greg.  

E-man falling in love with Aunt Lynn, the best listener of young people’s tales I’ve ever met. 

Eating steak, riding four-wheelers, and talking hunting and fishing (huh????) at the Kansas City Orwigs.  

Finding and enjoying common ground with everyone.

Sharing each moment of life for 11 days with my mom, and loving it.

Wishing we were all closer, but enjoying the differences that are so much about our distance.

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2 thoughts on “a beloved place and four generations

  1. That Uncle Greg brings his gloom and doom with him everywhere…

    LOL about big bridges. I used to always think the bridges in Qtown were the biggest … until we moved to the Bay area and I was introduced to the 9-miles bridges. 🙂

    Can’t wait to see pics of your trip.

  2. I can’t wait to take Flynn home to New York to spend time with my mom and see where I was born. I treasure it from a distance, although I’m glad not to live there anymore.

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