Weekend Ends

Church last Sunday was especially wonderful. Jewel Showalter spoke and she tells the most engaging stories! BJ and I met up with Steve and Meg outside my house where Joella was in the midst of her home church luncheon. They welcomed our entrance to their party; but our mutual space and discreet goals complicated our desire to eat lunch and leave for Denver quickly. The four of us hurried off to Chestnut Hill Cafe and sat freezing outside in the sunlight of the blustery day. That place gets crowded of a Sunday afternoon!

We talked about city vs. country life. (Interesting, a similar topic occupied the conversation of many Arcadian writers and romantic poets.) Stephen believes firmly that Burnham, Pennsylvania, specifically the "Burnham Riviera," is the best town the world has to offer. So why, I wonder, does he seek a life in the navy? Possibly, home is most dear when we gaze at it from a distance.

We traveled to Denver, (close to Ephrata, non-locals) to attend our Uncle and Aunt's open house. Four birthdays (ages 20, 40, 50, 52...?), Abby home on leave, and a beautiful April are more than enough reason to celebrate with the Buckles family. Steve and Meg were fawned over for several reasons: our family is not accustomed to being in the same room with one another, they are having a baby (a BOY, in SEPTEMBER!), and they are just so good-looking.

Abby is radiant, despite days and nights spent training in a submarine. Nicole is a wonder-person--anyone will feel comfortable in her presence, what a gift! Mom came, dressed in magenta. Grandma and Grandpa came, full of new experience. Their hearts go so deep now, I wonder if I will ever know them. Uncle Ralph showed all the newcomers to the food table, happy enough to direct the friendly chaos. Aunt Lisa held a little baby most of the time, flitting about through hall, living rooms, and porch, the kitchen her constant center.

Camera flashes and goodbyes later, Mom and I returned to Lancaster. She settled into a "nap" while I drove to a frisbee game. Loss, 8-5. We had a Bob Evans breakfast in the morning, but my mind was already turning to my English Portfolios.

No time, no time to reflect. The garden winds that remade me, the family that I treasure, the breathless motion of springtime... little by little I remember to live. Two weeks until the end of junior year.