I can't believe I'm 33 years old and I still have a hard time saying goodbye on these trips. It just never gets easier! Brent and I sat in the terminal watching the buzz of people getting our plane ready for its early flight. His were glazed over with tired...mine were trying to hold back tears. I know I'm overly sentimental, but family is just so important to me. And to see my little guy having a chance to bond with his grandparents just fills me with pride. I know we saw and did a lot while we were out there, but I think we had just as much fun cleaning the garage with my dad, or reading stories with grandma.
Every day brought new adventures, and yet there was a lot of time for relaxing and enjoying the beautiful landscape. We took nature walks around the property, picked vegetables from the garden most nights. I watched as Brent learned how to open up the peas and eat them raw, just as I loved to do when I was growing up. We played ball on the porch in the evenings, the smell of bear musk faint in the cool breezes. We watched the thunder clouds roll in from the mountaintop in the late afternoon most days, and even got to spend one night in the RV watching the lightning and listening to the wind and rain swirl around us.
Last night Brent woke up 5 minutes after I had put him to bed. He couldn't tell me why he was so upset, and he was so choked up that words weren't even coming out. But I know he was both glad to be home, and missing the special days we just had. I just held him for awhile, watching his eyes roll back in his head as he fought sleep. He asked me to sing to him, and I crooned his favorite Kenny Rogers song as he tightly gripped my thumb in his warm hand and fell off to sleep at last.
