After almost a year in the jungle, I jetted for the prairie to celebrate Independence Day with family in North Dakota. The clover never looked so yellow nor the air smelled so sweet as it did on this sojourn. The one week visit back home rejuvenated me, cementing family relationships in celebration and a fair share of mourning. Choking out my disdain for everything urban, the skies restored my wholly Western heart with their wide open blues and cool night-time breezes.
We made new memories. Some of those that are stuck still deeply in my soul include making ginger snaps with my nephew Cohen, my mom posing like a supermodel at the 4th of July parade, Grandma Fern's 90th birthday party and the colossal family gathering of aunts, uncles, and cousins galore at Aunt Kim's, sitting at "the Ponderosa" lodge and looking out over sheep, bull, and other animals while breathing the sweet air deeply, getting bitten by vicious and hungry mosquitoes, setting off fireworks with my brother and his family in the middle of the street in Hettinger, chatting with uncle Steve about the origins of coffee and other trivia that he has such a good memory for, eating breakfast with my dad, the trauma of seeing our cheeriest, cutest, ball-chasingest, cuddliest dog get sick, wither, and die, the disbelief and tears that still follow memories of Skip, planting marigolds and tomatoes for my dad, and holding each and every moment tightly to my chest so that I can remember each one even after a 30-hour, multi-continent plane ride.
Here are a few snapshots of the journey.
