Our fall was full of more moose visitors, the girls’ first Alaska State Fair, wagon rides and U-pick vegetables at a fall festival, and the girls’ first snow. Winter has been beautiful, with weeks of cold temperatures and fog bringing thick frost on everything in its path. Only recently did we get a winter-worthy dump of snow, and we made the most of it by breaking a trail in the backyard to pull the girls around on.
On one path I walked hand-in-hand with my mom, first as a young girl while visiting relatives in Alaska (since my family had moved to Oregon shortly before I was born), then as a college student coming to see my parents in Alaska when they had moved back after retirement.
Until my heart became restless and Alaska did become home, forever. When I packed my little car and drove north, I planned on setting my feet firmly in Alaska soil for as long as God would have me here.
When my girls are in their car seats and I reach back from the passenger seat to have little fingers wrap around mine, I remember Mom’s hand reaching back to hold my hand in the car when I was a girl.
When I talk to my husband about his childhood, growing up in the same town my mom spent nearly half of her life and being a part of the same church my parents were a part of years before his existence and then when he was a baby, I long for the two paths to have crossed a little more.
When I drive past a certain road… when I visit a certain landmark…
The memories tied to Mom seem endless.
Also, these cuties are the reason for the months between this post and the previous one. :)