The good things

never seem to change

Two weeks have passed in a blur, but that’s not to say that I didn’t benefit from a break. While I abstained from writing, I was constantly jotting down notes for future posts, studying the Substack platform, etc. I am happy to return, excited to move into my second year on Substack, and grateful for you, my readers.

a dinner with our friends LeahAnn and Keith during Jordan and Brooke’s stay

Last Tuesday morning, Jordan and his dear friend Brooke left after a month-long visit. Tuesday evening, Amy arrived for her bridal shower on Saturday. As I dropped her at the airport yesterday morning, tears began and prevailed off and on most of the day.

I bounced between enjoying the warmth of the recent memories we created over the last month and what felt like a vice grip squeezing my heart at the thought that it will be two months before I can hug these lovely humans once again. I reminded myself that the time will pass quickly. I smiled, remembering how good it felt to laugh with them. I reconsidered our discussions, hoping I provided wise counsel. And I waited patiently for the tightness in my chest to dissipate, which it did by evening thanks to Rick’s kind nurturing.

This morning I am struck by the thought that the good things we enjoy spending our downtime doing never seem to change, regardless of how old my children become— simple pleasures typically in nature.

One of my favorite days with Jordan and Brooke was spent cooling off at the river and stopping to see the goat farm on our way. Nothing cuter than a kid goat and nothing more precious than feeding those little guys. The beautiful garden at the edge of the farm was a must for stopping to take a few photos. We also visited the “store,” which operates on the honor system. One can leave cash or a check in the basket on the counter or use Venmo. We purchased soap and goat cheese, and Venmo’d hours later.

In a world that requires constant deflecting of all the negativity surrounding us, listening to my kids chuckle at the antics of a pen of goats felt pretty damn good, along with the sensation of goat lips nibbling softly at the food in the palm of my hand.

Much more to share about Amy’s visit and her bridal shower, which I will save for Friday.