...Through Good Ol' York

I'm not entirely sure how how to articulate my feelings, or thoughts, or experiences here this week.  I'm sitting outside on Mom's patio, with Lucy at my feet, desperate for her bunny babies to make an appearance and give chase.  We are surrounded by fireflies and bats, and God bless her, now that she's an oh-so-mature 5 years old, she's no longer trying to collect all of them as new best friends.  It smells like the fresh hay that's stacked across the street, and the berry patches up the road, and when I was 15 and running around the east side with girls I believed were the best besties a girl could have, sober of substance but so very high on each other.

This week has been simple.  95% family, supplemented by a very few old friends.  Lots and lots and lots of consecutive dives and cannon balls by our babies who are equal parts fish and cherub.  Remembering how much I love to blast the radio when I drive alone, especially if I know the words or need to work. it. out.  Scrambling to get everything together, making very consistent bubblehead mistakes that include leaving both my wallet and my hiking shoes in Chicago.  Rescued only by the fact that Geoff knows me well enough to check my work, and loves me well enough to save the day (thank you!!).  Ordering my remaining supplies without enough time for actual arrival before I fly out (sigh).  Trying to explain to different companies why I can't provide a new address that I don't have.  Testing my mom's patience as I completely took over her house in all of my flustered glory. Reminded of so many memories, and adventures, and misadventures.

Camping Out, Maria, age 5

I wouldn't trade York being my home, the base from which I first jumped.  I learned my first lessons, and gifts, and frailties here.  Made my first adult decisions, chose my faith, and developed a deep desire to work with populations of people that are often under-represented, ignored, and misunderstood.  Where my brothers and sister and I puzzled together what it meant to grow up as a collective unit instead of only singular individuals.  Our bunkbed wrestling and cornfield kickball  evolved into a fiercely loyal little team of 4 who would see each other through some dark days.  A quad who laugh inappropriately in public at the same things, read one other from across the room without words, and who honestly believe that together, we can do anything.  I know, for damn sure, that I can set out on this crazy adventure because they are my people.  I will continue to draw on Erin's strength and faithfulness, and Christopher's heart and humility, and Timmy's depth and compassion when I can't muster my own.  Because I have done so for over 34 years, and they haven't failed me yet.

York has been kind to me, and very gratefully, remains so to the people I love most.  I'm entrusting my most beloved to you, you "first capital", you.  Take good care of them.  Keep growing your apples, and hardy little babies, and Harleys.  Keep teaching us to drive stick on your windy hills, and that bats and skunks are actually kind of cool (except when you accidentally smoosh one in your driveway).  And please oh please, remain a safe place to land after an arduous day at work, or a
lifetime away.  I'll be seeing you.