#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

We leave Sedona in the dark. We arrive in Boston as sunset, home at dark. A lovely sunset on the Mass. Pike, minus the red rock. Still, there is my Grammy River, as Wave has named it, glinting in the late afternoon light as we pass Cambridge. It was a long day of driving to the airport, flying home, driving home. A happy homecoming. Dogs welcome me. Wave welcomes me. My daughters welcome me home. First things first, put the obvious things back in order. I need my house to be in order, and it’s close. I want to savor the beauty and peace and self-reflection of this trip. Wave has let us know, over the phone, as we drive home, towards him, of a couple of mishaps in our absence. He has spilled some paint on our bedroom couch while painting a dinosaur from a kit. His mother was in the shower. Additionally, he has broken a bird feeder of Frank’s that’s hung on the deck. He sounds very sorry. I reassure him that we forgive all mishaps, large and small, because we are grandparents. That’s in our job description. Frank has already cleaned up the couch. By tomorrow he will have fixed the feeder. Easy stuff. Thank goodness, the easy stuff that can be fixed.