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August 30, 2012

The sun hung low in the sky as my dad opened the throttle and we flew down some forgotten country road. I think I’m finally understanding the lure of motorcycles as we twist and turn down a canyon road with the view of a dammed reservoir below us. There’s something liberating about the cool air pummeling you and the smells of the sage, alfalfa, and sprinklers on the grass gloriously attacking your senses.


I came home to Oregon this week to spend some time with my family – mainly my grandpa who is struggling through cancer treatments. I wanted to spend some time with him and my grandma before school occupied me so completely that I couldn’t get away if things started to get worse. The chemo’s taken a toll on his body and we’re in a waiting game to see what the doctors say the next move is. (Side note: I realize doctors are human beings as well, with families and lives, but it can be quite frustrating when they all decide to take a week and a half off for Labor Day and your sick gramps can’t get a hold of anyone. You’d think they’d plan that at least someone would be on call.) Anyway, it’s been a blessing to have time with these beautiful people I get to call family. Being able to reminisce and remember great vacations and that time grandma had a beehive. I’ve realized these times are good for the soul. Where you remember where you came from. When you remember that your family is weird enough to think that dill pickles are a burrito condiment. And you hear stories that you’d never heard before. Like about your grandpa getting up at 2am to bake donuts at his parent’s bakery when his dad was diagnosed with ALS and then go teach a full day of jr. high history. Times that remind you of the strength that lives within you and the fact that anything is possible.


Home does that to you. Even if your family doesn’t live in the same town where you grew up, there’s something about being with them that stirs you to the soul. That awakens you to the knowledge that you are not alone and that life will go on after you’re gone. There’s something comforting about that. Something liberating. Something similar to staring at the sunset over the mountains from the back of a motorcycle.


2 Comments leave one →
  1. Maryfaith Woods permalink
    August 31, 2012 12:36 pm

    I love my family and I love that I married into the Woods family! Double blessings.


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