We leave Eastern Washington about 7:00 a.m. and drive through the grasslands and the mountain pass to Issaquah before 11:00. The sun is just rising and accompanies us until we reach the mountains. Then the gloom of Seattle's coast overtakes the sky.
W remembers Macky's DimSum which we liked before, so we stop in for lunch. Everything tastes delicious. The service is quick. The food comes hot to the table.
Next door was a bronze statue of a grizzly. A restored log cabin from the early 1900s is its backdrop.
I'm amazed by the long, wide buses. Some buses are doubles: a second section is attached to the first with an accordion wall between that allows for turns. The roads are broad and there's a sign for everything.
It starts to feel like home after we come in and out a few times. The white covers are a soothing backdrop to basement living.
The grandkids entertain us before supper.
Melissa has prepared Pacific salmon as the main course.
By the time we get to bed, the laundry's drying, the suitcases are unpacked, and we have a book in hand.
Thursday
We wake early. I have a meeting with my Spiritual Director at 8:00. She reads a moving poem, (read it below)
Stripped by God (Cynthia Langston Kirk 2007) that becomes my question for the day. At 10:00 I reach my coffee table in Lake Forest Park and do some editing and writing.
We have lunch at Seattle's Indo Cafe (Indonesian food) with pastor and friend Jason Deuman, who catches us up on his efforts and listens to ours. Our server lived in Bandung until he was 10 but hasn't been back. Small world - W leaves him some bandrek (traditional ginger drink).
In the evening, we are at friends' with a group that met weekly for years, starting in the 1990s.
Many have health challenges, some have appointments or are traveling.BUT how wonderful to see those who make it to Larsons'. Phyllis has prepared a feast. Dessert is 3 pies and ice cream or whipped cream toppings. (We'd be butter-balls if we ever moved back!)
As always, the hospitality is warm and the setting beautiful. This season it's decked for autumn.
Friday
I need to see Mom so I leave Seattle about 6:00 a.m. and drive up to Canada. I arrive after 8:00.
Before I say hello, I make her usual breakfast and take it upstairs to her. The doctor tells Norm: Mom fractured her back pruning roses: that explains her extreme pain.
We chat while she eats. She's getting tippy and feels weak so I do a load of laundry while she showers with someone nearby.
Mom lives in rhythm - "First we do this, then that" - but "this way, not that way." My brother usually takes care of her and she doesn't have a lot undone. It's easy to visit: we know each other well. I remake 2 beds with fresh linens, water the yard and indoor plants, pick tomatoes, cook homemade spätzle and meat sauce for lunch, and do a few other chores.
Supper? She makes herself lunch-meat and cheese, melted on bread. And we take a selfie.
As evening falls, we talk and pray together. She names each child, grandchild, and great-grandchild to God, along with the elders we hold so dear. "I can still kneel down," she says. That's a big deal.
I'm back on the road after 6:00. The sun is setting in a glorious blaze. There's a traffic jam at the border. It takes 30 minutes to get through. I follow Waze instructions on the back farm roads of northern Washington until we get to the freeway. Everyone is in a hurry: traffic flows at 70-75 mph, even in 60mph zones. Some cars buzz by at +80mph.
The full moon lights the way until I pull into the Seattle driveway before 9:00 p.m. It takes me a while to unwind but we're asleep before 11.
Saturday
The grandkids are fighting colds and we plan to have them sleep over tomorrow. So we try to keep our distance today. I put their daily Oma/Opa gift - animal washcloths - at the top of the steps since they're not coming downstairs.
W and I schluck some fizzy Vitamin C, zinc, and other stuff to ward off the crud. We have a busy week ahead ... no time for colds.
I make pho for breakfast (hot Vietnamese-style soup.) While W goes to coffee, I start to clean several cabinets, washing down shelves, putting away vases, tea things, and china. I'm still not done at lunchtime. A few things wait to be sorted on the table. The laundry is almost finished, too.
W uses his new air fryer to make shrimp; I add mac and cheese and set out chips with dip. It feels like a lot of food. But there's room for a square of chocolate after!
W and I read through tomorrow's talk, make edits, and nap. It's a quiet and productive day.
Read more:
(As is usual for poetry, read it aloud or have it read to you.)
What would happen if I pursued God -
If I filled my pockets with openness,
Grabbed a thermos half full of fortitude,
And crawled into the cave of the Almighty
Nose first, eyes peeled, heart hesitantly following
Until I was face to face
With the raw, pulsing beat of Mystery?
What if I entered and it looked different
Than anyone ever described?
What if the cave was too large to be fully known,
Far too extensive to be comprehended by one person or group,
Too vast for one dogma or doctrine?
Would I shatter at such a thought?
Perish from paradox or puzzle?
Shrink and shrivel before the power?
Would God be diminished if I lived a question
Rather than a statement?
Would I lose my faith
As I discovered the magnitude of Grace?
O, for the willingness to explore
To leave my tiny vocabulary at the entrance
And stand before you naked
Stripped of pretenses and rigidity,
Disrobed of self righteousness and tidy packages,
Stripped of all that holds me at a distance from you
And your world.
Strip me, O God,
Then clothe me in curiosity and courage.
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