Three days before our first grandbaby is due, our youngest daughter graduates from college.
Our family tends to do things this way.
We had two weddings, two weeks apart, almost two years ago.
This just seems to be typical for us.

I am praying that each event has its own special day.
I had all my children early, so I wonder if my daughter will, as well.
It will be so nice to sit at our daughter’s graduation in peace.
It will be so nice to have nothing else on our mind but celebrating her graduation milestone.

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I went up to the front door of the house.
I was still in the clothes I wore to church.
I was wearing dress shoes.
The shoes had two-inch heels.

The heels were not the problem.
I have worn these dress shoes before.
It was the ground I was walking on that presented a problem.
The ground and the shoes were not compatible.

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I like attics.
I like the idea of them.
I always wish that I could go into the attic of an old house and spend the afternoon.
After spending the afternoon, I wish for one more thing.

I wish that I would be able to choose one thing to take with me.
I would spend all afternoon contemplating what that one thing might be.
It is just a wish.
In the meantime, my attic will have to do.

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I heard the knock.
I knew the person who was doing the knocking.
Anyone else would have used the front door.
Not this friend; she is a backdoor kind of friend.

To be a backdoor kind of friend is a good thing.
To be able to come up onto the deck and enter my house through the kitchen door is lovely.
I am in the kitchen most of the time anyway.
If I am not cooking or baking, I am writing.

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They always fascinate me when I see them in the sky.
I watch the way they fly with precision.
They fly until they form a perfect, V shape.
They honk loudly as they fly overhead.

I always wonder what body of water they are flying towards.
I can think of a few ponds that are close by.
I know that a lake nearby is a possibility.
It is the honking sound that can be deafening as they fly above me.

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I am not a traveler.
I like being home.
There is no place that I have a burning desire to visit.
Everything I love most is right here.

I could say that my lack of desire to travel has to do with contentment.
Perhaps.
I could say that I do not like to travel because my back protests after sitting too long.
I could say that I do not like to travel because I get tired on long car rides.

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I was driving on a road that I take all the time.
It is a beautiful, tree lined road with many curves.
There is usually no traffic.
Anytime I happen to be behind a car, we keep moving.

This day was different.
This day, traveling on the road started out just like it had many times before.
Up ahead, I saw a line of cars.
Up ahead, I saw a flashing orange light that you sometimes see on top of a truck.

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I carry reusable bags into the grocery store.
For years, I chose both paper and plastic when someone was kind enough to bag for me.
Each type of bag was reused in trash cans or as book covers when my children were young.
I always had a supply of bags on hand.

At the suggestion of a friend in the grocery store one day, I bought a few of the reusable bags.
I now have about ten bags in my car at all times.
There have been a few times when I walked into the store without them.
They actually hold more groceries and can be packed more efficiently.

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You get it handed to you after you place your order.
It is square and fits in the palm of your hand.
It has little lights around each side.
It will alert you when your food is ready.

No matter how many times I am handed one of these buzzers, I am still surprised.
I know that it will light up eventually.
I know that it will make a loud sound as well.
I am never prepared.

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My husband is very handy.
He has an undergraduate degree in chemical engineering and an MBA as well.
The further along he went in his career, he did less engineering and more management.
If truth be told, he thinks fondly of the days as a test engineer.

Just give me a project, let me complete it, then give me another one, was what I heard him say.
That desire for projects became woodworking as a hobby.
He was always good fixing things, building things, and making things.
He purchased woodworking equipment for a shop in the unfinished part of our basement.

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