it was pretty fabulous.
a couple of weeks each summer of my childhood were spent lake-side with my family. my grandma, games of Sorry and cookies. my mom, books and bonnie raitt. a boat, minnows a sister or two and my dad. beautiful stuff. and a lot of peach pie.
and as i made my peach pie filling last night, i innocently stuck my nose in the bowl.
and before i knew what was happening, i was bawling. hands holding the kitchen counter, tears hitting the tile.
that smell. it propelled me backwards and the impact brought a flood of tears. scenes of innocence took over my mind-space. my grandma, our summer cabin weeks, a life of easier.
i stood and thought of what could satiate this new thirst. i could go to minnesota and see my grandma. i could even visit that cabin where we spent so many fabulous days. but no. nothing would satisfy this. it was all of it-- a longing for days of simple childhood joy. and i can reach for those places and people and they are gifts. but it will never be as simple as it was. can't set free this responsibility- these years (though there haven't been that many).
so i ate peach pie in memory. in a little bit of mourning. and in thanksgiving. for all that has come before and won't be again.
it's a good life, folks. He gives us good all over the place. i know it's here in the midst of my two-year-old's fits of temper and my laundry piles. His goodness. HE is here.