Tag Archives: Family

Gratitude Friday

pdxsky
1. Visiting family in Oregon. It was a shorter trip this year, and having just lost Dexter I wasn’t necessarily at my best, but it was good to be there, with them. I went to my youngest niece’s softball tournament with my mom and dad, saw her pitch and my brother coach, watched movies with my mom (she made me a marionberry cobbler!), “met” the feral cat my dad has been taming (looked at it through a window because that’s as close as I could get), hung out a bit with my oldest niece, went to visit one aunt who lives on the coast with a few other aunts along for the ride, ate some seafood, played a new dice game, and walked on the beach. It’s nice to sink into the rhythms of their life, but it’s also good to get back to my own.

2. Walking on the beach. I was so happy to be there, but it was mixed with sadness because our trip last summer was our last before Dexter’s cancer diagnosis, the last time he’d be with us in that place, an innocent time before getting the worst news and I couldn’t help remembering, missing him.

3. Marionberries. You can only get them there, and I can’t eat enough to be satisfied — so good.

momscobbler4. Having a smart phone. I resisted it for so long, and still cringe each month when I have to pay the bill, but it sure is nice, especially when I am away from home and Eric can text me, send me pictures of my dog.

Bonus Joy: The way Sam squealed when he first saw me after I’d been away from him for six days.

Things I Forgot about Oregon in the Summer

  • I forgot: The utter glory, the sheer magic of berry season. The full measure of deliciousness and wonder to be found in Marionberries, farm fresh blueberries and raspberries and strawberries, as well as farmer’s market cucumbers and lettuce and tomatoes, real maple bars, and seafood fresh from the Pacific.
  • I forgot: That giant, lush roses and daisies and sweet peas and hollyhocks grow wild in the ditches along the side of the road, and in some places, the trees are so thick you can’t see through them.
  • I forgot: There are some trees that are so green they are almost black.
  • I forgot: That nothing here ever dries completely, that it’s either soaked, soggy, wet, or damp. I forgot mud and mold and moss.
  • I forgot: Every summer has its very own soundtrack. This summer it’s Beach House Radio on the TuneIn Radio app. It’s perfect, “If you’re fond of sand dunes and salty air,” (Groove Armada, At The River).
  • I forgot: Even when you have tons of good food available, you don’t have to eat it all at once, don’t have to eat until or unless you are hungry. There is enough, enough time, enough goodness. You can wait, or you can eat–either way you can relax into the sweetness of enough.
  • I forgot: If you drive HWY 22, you will get stuck in traffic caused by massive farm equipment driving slowly down the road towards the next field.
  • I forgot: The gray sky and rain will make me feel terrible, down and depressed and tired, even this near the beach.
  • I forgot: This close to the ocean, it’s like there is a giant white noise machine running 24 hours a day, and it’s wonderful.
  • I forgot: I never tire of walking on the beach, the smell and the sound and the shape of it. This space, this place is precious.
  • I forgot: On some days, it’s so foggy that you can’t see the ocean, even if you are right next to it.
  • I forgot: In Waldport, owning a weed-eater is more important than owning a lawn mower.
  • I forgot: Sometimes driving to the store to buy groceries or taking a shower is the only time you’ll have alone, so take advantage of it.
  • I forgot: How much I like the people I love, how much I enjoy their company, and how much I miss them when we are apart. It is absolutely a survival technique to forget this, because if I felt the entire measure of how sad I was to be separated from them, I’d fall down and never want to get back up.

    Me and my brother (who I adore).

  • I forgot: It’s more fun to remember stuff with other people who remember the same things, even if your memory of it isn’t exactly the same.
  • I forgot: No matter how long or how well you know someone, you still don’t know everything.
  • I forgot: That I am never really ready to go home, because this is home too.