In 1953, my grandparents moved into this home. It’s the place where they would go on to raise their two children and where they would spend the next 63 years.
The loss of my grandparents has also meant the loss of this familiar place. Very little was changed here over the years, so stepping inside is a little like going back in time. I had the opportunity to walk through it recently as the packing was being done, and I was flooded with memories in each and every room. Memories of eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on tv trays. Of summer days in the swimming pool and picking strawberries in Grandmother’s garden. I was reminded of slumber parties in the basement with my cousin and of learning to play corn hole in the backyard.
The house today is tired. It’s dusty and empty and quiet. But in my memory, the house is clean and tidy and full of people. There’s a kaleidoscope on the coffee table and a jar of pretzels on the kitchen counter. There’s a mini fridge full of coca-cola and a garage stuffed with Grandfather’s “treasures”. And that’s the version of the house that I’m going to hold onto.
* In loving memory of Richard Joseph Peterson and Marilyn Tanner Peterson *
I never knew how much I would love being an aunt. And getting to have these little guys visit for a whole weekend was a little slice of heaven.
My family is recovering from a long and exhausting season of loss. So the arrival of our newest member brings joy in the midst of sorrow. He arrived two weeks ahead of schedule, but really, he was right on time.
I had been invited to be in the delivery room for his birth. The sister in me wanted to be there to support my sister at this precious time. The photographer in me wanted to be there to capture the intimacy of the labor. And the mama in me wanted to be there to experience the miracle of delivering a baby. Not knowing if I will ever get to deliver a baby of my own, it was a gift to be present for the birth of this nephew of mine.
Tanner made it look easy and Charlie made a fast entry into the world. It was amazing.
After two days in the hospital, Charlie got to go home to meet his big brother.
Peterson, party of 4 🙂
A recent stay in Europe began with a few days in Munich. It’s a city proud of its history of brewing beer and building BMWs. Somehow the third largest city in Germany manages to feel clean and quiet.
Just 20 minutes outside of Munich is the Dachau Concentration Camp. Opened in 1933, Dachau was the first camp the Nazis operated in Germany. For twelve years, thousands of prisoners lived and worked and died on these grounds. We listened to stories of suffering and brutality while we stood in the rooms, in the cells, in the chambers where it had occurred.
One rental car and two hours on the autobahn found us in the southeastern corner of Bavaria. A region rich in history and natural beauty, it is home to small mountain villages and fairy-tale palaces. We had just enough time to roam the streets of Berchtesgaden and the grounds of this royal residence.
One last stop before leaving Germany. The view from the top of Mount Jenner, overlooking Lake Konigssee.
Last fall, my sister and brother-in-law moved across the state line and settled in the Music City. Not quite a year of living in Nashville, and they seem to feel right at home. In a city where the foodie scene is booming and live music venues are on every corner, one weekend is not enough.
Every summer I get the chance to spend a week vacationing with my family. And most summers, those vacations take place along Florida’s scenic Highway 30-A. Powder white sand and turquoise waters have drawn beachgoers to this area of the panhandle for decades. Pastel colored beach communities have been developing along the highway for as long as I can remember. And year after year, we find ourselves coming back, ordering the same dishes at the same restaurants, riding our bikes along the same pathways, and watching the same sunsets. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
In the northwestern corner of Montana, among the peaks of the continental divide, are one million acres of protected splendor. A paradise of wildlife and mountain peaks. A place to experience the grandeur and the creativity of our Creator.
Anyone wanting to drive the width of the park, must take a journey on the Going-to-the-Sun Road. The only road to traverse the park, it is 53 miles of narrow and winding pavement. The curves are harrowing but the views are majestic. If you look closely at the photo below, you can see cars making their way up into the mountains.
If Glacier National Park is on your bucket list, go now! Scientists studying this area are estimating that all the glaciers may disappear by 2030 if global warming continues at the current rate. Today, there are about 25 glaciers remaining in the park. One of the largest, Jackson Glacier, is pictured below.
This park is home to black and grizzly bears. This guy was our closest bear encounter
When his mom asked if I was interested in watching him a few days a week, I never imagined what a gift it would be. What a gift he would be. I have loved our year together and will miss our weekly visits. This little man has a really special place in my heart!
There aren’t enough days in the weekend. Especially when they are spent with these people.
Michael and I recently took a weekend trip to the mountains. We booked a room in Hendersonville out of convenience. It’s close to Asheville, where we planned to spend some time, as well as the state park where we planned to do some hiking. We did not intend to spend much time in Hendersonville, so we were pleasantly surprised by the charm of this small mountain town.
The historic downtown is clean and walkable. There is a long list of local restaurants that all looked amazing. And best of all, we happened to be there during the annual Garden Jubilee. The streets were filled with flowers and shrubs, herbs and vegetables, all locally grown and all for sale. I’m a sucker for a street festival and this one was beautiful.