My son-in-law recently mentioned that I was the best guest they ever had (and they’ve had quite a few recently). I let him know that I wasn’t a guest, I was family. Given that I am sleeping in the guest room, what is the difference?

There is nothing like having a tiny morsel snuggled down on you, except maybe having that tiny thing recognize you, your scent, the timber of your voice, because they are essentially familiar.

I am here in Colorado to be a grandmama. Petra came to light on October 4, the Feast of St. Francis, the guardian of all small animals. This particular small animal is strong, active, demanding, yet also oddly patient and aware. She was hungry this morning, but her mother needed to take care of a few things before feeding her. Petra became gradually more upset, until her momma came near. Then she calmed down again. She heard her momma. She smelled her momma. Sure enough, food was on the way. Such confidence in a week old person! That assuredness of care is part of family.

The Grand Girl gets much of her beauty and verve from her father. Her wanting to come and watch the sun rise with me, or letting me brush her hair, or having me to read to her, or helping me pick the last of the green beans, connects her to her mama’s side of the family.

I drove out to Colorado to be an extra pair of hands and arms for these two wee ones. Cooking, cleaning, going shopping…all those grandmotherly functions that cannot be done long distance. Letting my daughter rest and heal. Letting my son in law continue to work on his Master’s thesis. I can slip into their routine and pick up the slack because their patterns are familiar.

I wish I had these small people closer. Family provides continuity and connectedness. My whole trip has been devoted to seeing family.

I made a long trip shorter by stopping in Iowa to see my niece Alejandra, who has been studying bat mortality due to wind turbines in Iowa. She has grown to be a fascinating, insightful, beautiful person.

The second leg of my journey brought me to Wichita, and meeting a brother from another mother for the very first time. Don has so many of my father’s mannerisms. It was amazing to see him alive in a different body. An afternoon’s visit wasn’t long enough to catch up on two lifetimes apart. Don was born before my mom and dad married. I don’t know if my father knew he had a sixth son before he received notice that Don was looking for him shortly before he died.

The third leg of my journey brought me to my own mommy, the wellspring of all wonder.

My mother has any number of irons in the fire, which is situation normal! I brought her garlic, so we got one of her raised beds cleared, turned over, potting soil added, and bulbs planted.

Does this look like an 88 year old who has just been slinging bags of potting soil? Yes!!!

I repaired her tin cutter, that had fallen apart before I arrived.

We took early morning walks and enjoyed the neighbors’ gardens.

And we toasted being together! Stepping into a different stream and flowing with the current of her life felt like coming home…because it was.

And then it was time to leave with Pumpkin, who road shotgun throughout the journey.

Driving allowed me to bring some of the bounty of our farmstead with me. I left jam and jelly, if not also garlic and tomatoes and apples, wherever I stopped. Food. It’s what Michael and I do.

Meanwhile, back at the farm, the window arrived and got installed!

Michael has cut and split wood to fill the wood bins.

He harvested rutabagas. They are the magic ingredient in pasties.

He tucked our own garlic in for the winter.

He cleared brush around the deer stands.

I could not be here without Michael being there. He anchors me and allows me to float freely at the same time. This grandmama gig is pretty sweet. But part of that gig will be returning home, to continue making that space for people to feel at home, even if they are sleeping in the guest room.