Last weekend, the 16-18th, Dave struck again.
He gave me 45 minutes to get the house in order and myself packed.
A plane to Spokane was leaving and there was a seat with my name on it.
Trips home without the kids, and without the 12 hour car ride are rare now-a-day.
It was better than ice cream. With sprinkles.
The one full day my mom and I had together we spent shopping, followed by shopping, and a bit more shopping. Oh, and we squeezed in some yummy food and a movie too.
Something happened in the middle of all the spoilage that she was dripping on me. It was a conversation about living.
She told me to live. To really, really, live.
Her thoughts were not a mere suggestion.
They were a map. And the streets. JUICY.
Spokane Falls at twilight
