this is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein...

The summer I turned fifteen, we went on vacation to Colorado. I have memories, all fond ones now, of a leaky tent, an elderly waitress serving our meal and then returning moments later to take our order, an amateur dinner theater performance, and Paul Simon, whose album, Graceland, was the soundtrack for a road trip marking the end of our childhood and the beginning of college debts, scholastic enlightenment, and weighty decisions concerning the future. That spring, we'd move from California to Illinois, my brother, Bobby, would commence with his four years of higher education and I would long for some independence of my own. I couldn't wait to get away, to carve out a little life for myself in a world that seemed too titillating for staying put for all that long in just one place.

Ask me tonight about roots, about freedom and family and I'll remember how twenty-four hours ago, when we were celebrating Mary's birthday with my parents and my brother (pictured above with my dad) and his wife and daughters, I'd felt settled. There are thrills to be found in changing over and over again our scenery but I believe, now, (after wading a bit in rushing currents a tad more forceful than I'd anticipated) there can be quiet, sustained tranquility in surrounding yourself with loved ones and standing still.