The future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of sixty minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is.
C. S. Lewis
We arrive in Prince George in time for lunch. Gerry grabs burgers and heads over to eat with our son, Michael, at his job site, and Laurinda and I go out for a mother-daughter birthday lunch. I can’t remember the last time the two of us had an opportunity to have lunch together, just the two of us. It’s a sweet gift.
The three of us rendezvous after lunch, and go to Makiya’s school to pick her up. She doesn’t know Grandma and Grandpa are here and I’m giddy with excitement. When she comes out of school, she looks over to where her mom’s car is parked. She’s too far away to make out who is standing there with her mom. She walks toward us, still trying to figure it out, then suddenly recognizes. She stops, overcome. I wave.
She starts running toward and, as she gets closer, drops her backpack and coat, intent only on getting a grandma hug. I pull her in close, not sure which one of us is more excited. We climb into the car—Mom and Grandpa in the front seat, me in the backseat with my chattering Ladybug Girl.
After work, Michael joins us at Laurinda’s for pizza, and birthday cake with both of their names on it, and my heart is as full as my belly.
# # #
Today, we will return home through, what the forecast indicates, will be a wintry mix of weather. (We drove through a band of early, not insignificant amount of, snow yesterday too.)
This afternoon, we’ll head to the community garden to harvest the remaining tomatoes as frost predicted overnight.
And life will carry on.