A funny thing happened while riding my bicycle Sunday morning. It was such a subtle shift in thinking I almost didn’t appreciate the gravity of it.
John and I have a tradition of riding our bikes to breakfast on Sundays. The little restaurant we go to is the Summerland Beach Café, which is about eight miles from our house. There are some pretty good hills along the route, especially the last one, so it is a good way to earn breakfast.
I usually look forward to our ride, but this Sunday I woke up feeling terrible. I had a headache and felt tired. We had been on the road the last week and I was beating myself up for not eating as well as I should and for drinking more wine than I normally do.
The day after our wedding we left our hotel in San Francisco to go explore the city. It was a beautiful spring day, and we were excited to spend the day together as husband and wife.
Our wedding was everything we hoped it to be, and we were still on a love-high we wanted to bask in for as long as possible.
My phone rang as we stepped out onto the sidewalk and I answered immediately. My son and daughter-in-law were due to have daughter number two any day, and we were happily assigned to take care of daughter number one while they were at the hospital.
I’ve loved cherry pie every since the first one my mom made for me. We picked sour cherries each summer in Michigan and mom would make the best pies from those cherries. The funny thing is, I can’t seem to find one that tastes like hers. And I’ve searched, believe me, and so has my family.
Last year I finally went back to Michigan to see my family. We tend to see each other during times of stress or for funerals and I needed this visit to just be about spending time with them. I’m pretty sure it had been twenty years since I’d been back and I was excited to see my sisters at the airport waiting for me.