Do you remember that while I was in Arizona I visited my cousins Aneta and Kent down in Tucson? And do you remember that I also visited Paul’s cousins Chuck and Joanne in Scottsdale?
Well, get this. I got to visit Margaret-Rose’s cousins Carolyn and Tom a day later, also in Scottsdale, but way north by Pinnacle Peak. They had, only a day earlier, flown in from Ohio, their home from September to December. I’d met them for the first time last January when they came up this way to attend Mom Edna’s memorial service, as Carolyn is the daughter of Edna’s sister Erma.
Erma and Roy spent much time with Edna and Kenneth, a strong tie made as friends as well as family. Oh, the stories they told! Can you see the resemblance between Carolyn and her mom?
We talked for two hours straight, finding much in common as friends and as family.
Cousins—I don’t mind at all stretching the definition beyond blood relations.
Here’s a picture Bailey shared at the end of his third Passion Conference. I was so happy to still be with the Andersons when he returned from Atlanta full to the brim with experience and joy. His stories inspired me to watch some of the speakers on YouTube—Beth Moore, John Piper, Frances Chan, and others. They each had a powerful word to share with the audience of 55,000 young adults ages 18-25.
The next morning on my way to the Rental Car Center near the Phoenix airport, I stopped to fill my tank. Apparently I like living on the edge.
High over Oregon I got a hint of what to expect when I got home.
In reality, the valley got very little snow, but a layer of ice managed to shut down the town. Bad driving conditions on the Coast Range prevented my dear man from making his way home between Sabbath by the Sea sessions. I haven’t seen him (except on FaceTime) since December 26!
This is Darcy’s reaction to the bad news. “Say, what?”
I doused my disappointment with tax work.
With all my extra time I pulled down the garage/attic stairs and accessed old tax paper stuff that long ago met statute of limitations requirements. I mean, what would you rather do than sort through this many boxes of worthless history and re-box it for the next bank Shred Day?