Bend, OR

At home on the road

My family does not have a history of staying put so something as simple as a kiss on top of the head, the smell of my grandmother’s perfume, or a candy bar materializing in my coat pocket feels more like arriving home than any physical address ever could.

A trip to the doughnut shop is standard procedure every time I visit my grandparents. Even as an ornery teenager I never minded my grandfather’s 5AM wake up call, not even the time he woke me up with a gong. In between slow sips of coffee and his gentle nudging to go for a third bear claw, he made sure I knew just how much he loved me, how proud he was of how I was turning out.

Continuing south and on toward another migratory phase of life, these simple traditions keep the comforts of home close to my heart no matter where we land.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s