Wherever I am With You, 3/12

On a recent drive home, my youngest asked if I knew who created the world. I was curious as to her response, as she's been quite fascinated with God recently. She replied "that guy we talked about at school today," & my middle piped up, "God!". We then discussed how people believe all different things, and how we are all welcome to believe whatever we want, but the most important thing is to respect and appreciate differing beliefs, as well as our own. Children do that more often than adults. Without knowing. They remind us how rich and rewarding the simple things are; how to make friends with strangers; how to love and appreciate all. Perhaps it's naive, perhaps it's the lack of exposure to many things in the world, but I like to think it's something we can learn from. Because we need it, we need more respect, more peace, more love, more friendship and above all, less fear and less hate.

Wherever I am With You, 3/12

You May Also Like:

November: 30 Days of Thanks, week 1

30 Days of Thanks, Week 1:

November 1st: a full bed means a full heart, certainly that must be a quote somewhere. Or a sleepless night. Either way, I'm grateful for this. 

November 2nd: bearing witness to history, all of it. but especially the kind that makes you feel good, surrounded by the ones you love. I'm grateful for this.

November 3rd: we fantasize about long road trips, then we drive 20 minutes to town & hear cries of "are we almost there, yet?!" but if they didn't ask the questions, & we didn't pine for a creative response, we'd both be missing out on an integral milestone of childhood & parenthood. I'm grateful for this. 

November 4th: running around with friends, in the cool crisp air of fall, dappled in the fall light that we get so very briefly. I'm grateful for this.

November 5th: finding patches of sun inside & outside the house. I'm grateful for this.

November 6th: "look at my hair, isn't it beautiful?" her strength, her creativity, sense of imagination, the way she plays so contently, whether alone or with others. I'm grateful for this.

November 7th: rainy day walk to the park, on the eve of our historical election. My middle asking questions non-stop, "I just have so many questions?" he says. "keep asking them," I say. Their curiosity, their love for the outdoors, this quiet, wet walk. I am grateful for this.

You May Also Like:

Sunday Afternoon

We're settling back into school routines, with early alarm clocks reminding us summer has ended. In case we weren't certain, the leaves are falling rapidly, hitting the ground with a golden hue. Back-to-school colds are already making their presence, our annual gift we'd be happy to let go. It's my last year before all three are in school full-time; it's bittersweet, making me pause and wonder how that much time has slipped through my grasp, while making me relearn time management. Life's funny like that. We sit there holding our newborns, swearing to ourselves we'll soak up all these moments because it'll pass so quickly. But yearning for a little more- like getting out the door in a timely manner, and in one-piece. Then finding ourselves with older children, yearning for more control, like we had when they were babies, when we could bundle them up and load them up in the car. Life's funny like that. An ever-evolving circle that we're at the helm of, navigating through all the ups and downs.

Downtown Kodiak

The waterfront of Kodiak is alive almost year-round, but as salmon season approaches, it brings an increase in fishermen, cannery employees, workload and fish. We're on the cusp of it now. The cries of the seagulls will increase, the roars of the sea lions, all begging for a taste of summer's harvest. The forklifts grinding, back and forth, back and forth, beeping to make you aware there's more pallets to load. Our town is a fishing town, where the salt air kisses your cheeks, where the smell of fish processing is the smell of money. We're all, in some way, embedded in this way of life- the life of a fishing town.