05.13.14  This was our homecoming yesterday afternoon, arriving back to the lake after a week-end in Billings, where we celebrated May birthdays and Mother’s Day.  Joy, Anna and I ran the Montana Women’s Run, the first running race in which three generations of women in our family competed in a race together.  And Fletcher did his first mountain bike race with Don, a grandson/grandfather shared competition.  As the grandchildren get older, the relationships grow and change in such exciting ways.  It may just be my post-birthday nostalgia, but I think the relationships with my girls also get richer as time goes marching along.

When they were all racing through their teen-age years, it was such a relief to have them back in the house on those Friday and Saturday nights when they’d been out carousing late into the night.  I called it “the chicks are in their nest” feeling, as I finally was able to sink into my pillow and go to sleep.  They were home.  We were all safe.  Now, I have that same feeling when I am staying in their houses.  In Washington D.C., I love the tiny guest bedroom, surrounded by windows that rattle and shake in the wind and trees, while tucked into the cozy bed, knowing Sarah and her husband are just down the hall.  In California, we take over Norah’s bed while she moves into her brother’s room.  When I get up in the night to use the bathroom, you hear everybody’s sound soother machines in the bedrooms which line the hallway.  And, in Billings, the guest room is in the basement.  We hear the creaking floorboards overhead as the parents make their way to bed, and into the kitchen for early morning coffee.  On this visit, I had a sleep-over upstairs in Anna’s bedroom.  She and I slept in her bed together and Duncan made a little sleeping nest for himself on the floor.  Through the night, I listened to the gurgling water in the humidifier and the sweet sounds of their deep breathing.  “The chicks are in their nest” and ‘me thinks’ we’ve made a lovely nest in our family over the years.