This is it...

I came home last night to the distinct realization that has been eluding me in its finality:

In a few short days, 

this home that I love will no longer be my home.

The boxes strewn across the floor greeted me as I walked through the door, saying

'sister, it is time to face the facts.'

So, as I settled in for the night, as I awoke this morning, and as I spend the day packing up what has been left untouched, I feel every fiber of my being trying to record for posterity the feeling of what it was to live the past three years in this safe and settled place.

I am reflecting on the moments spent in this living space in its variety of arrangements over the years,

the friends that have sat with me here,

the time I have spent seeking God in prayer, seeking knowledge in study, seeking the hearts of those who have come to visit.

I am remembering the meals created, eaten, enjoyed;

I am hearing the laughter over the creation, 

and the sounds of the enjoyment.

I am thinking of the many moments spent in front of this mirror, looking deeply into myself, wondering 'who am I, and what is this journey I am on?' 

[along with a few moments of 'what are these wrinkles in my forehead?!' and 'what on earth am I going to do with this hair?!']

I am shaking my head at how things accumulate even when we live with the simplest of intentions,

and am pondering with amazement the breadth and the depth of the  papers and books that have crossed this desk and these shelves.

I am reliving painful moments of thinking the work would never be done, and am aware of gratitude for the time I've been given to explore the ways we are as a people in a culture on a planet that spins without our help.

I am dreaming of the many warm nights spent enveloped in blankets, the Sunday afternoons spent submerged in cave-like slumber.

And I am called by the chairs sitting in the yard, where I have sat in the presence of sunshine, the Presence of God, the presence of people I love and have learned from.

I give in to the call--as I have so many times each year as the days grow warm.  I sit, close my eyes, and see behind them the many moments of clarity I found here. 

I breathe in the peaceful breeze sweeping my face, record in my ears the bird's accompaniment to the whirring of the insects that clamor to say hello.

I return inside to see this beauty of a couch that Pam bought me just a few short weeks before I told her I had decided to move.   

I take a moment to pause, 

to thank God for the gift of this landlady and her family who have become like family to me, to thank Him for this sanctuary of a place.

And I let myself record the feeling of this
bitter sweet saying of good-bye:

Though I am sad to leave,

I am so grateful to have been.  

This Is Friendship

Not too long ago, I emailed my friend Karen and said:

I have to be in DC for a few days in June--want to join me?

Since our friendship is defined largely by phone tag,
we had been longing for some time.

This I knew, but still I did not expect:
Her answer to my query was--yes!


So, Saturday, I packed my suitcase and drove myself down to our nation's capital.  I parked my car in an underground lot, checked into my room, and spent the next few hours hearing smart people talk about smart things while Karen boarded a short little plane ride.

Not long after, we were together, in a cab, headed to Georgetown.

We stuck our noses into Clyde's, who offered us some glorified pub fare and a (rather heavy) pewter vat of "filtered water",

and stuck around in order to offer each other some smiles, some giggles, some details of life that phone tag doesn't allow for.

We left Clyde's and embarked on a walk around town, including a lovely bit of stroll along the Potomac, and some irresistibly and unusually flavored Argentinian gelato.

We found a precious little market tucked away in a side street, picked up a bottle of wine, and took it home to lounge with us in the comfort of our hotel.

The next morning I headed back to my conference so that I could say a few smart things, and then the real fun began.

First stop Chinatown, 

for some yummy Chinese snacks.

Pancakes, dumplings, pork buns,

yum.

Lack-of-lunch pangs satisfied,

 we made our way around the block to take in the National Portrait Gallery.

We wandered in the hum of the paintings on the walls and of our own thoughts, and met up in the Courtyard for some rejuvenating caffeine

 and some 

(hot!)

silliness...

When we were finished amusing ourselves, 

we departed on a self-imposed (and very long) walking tour of DC that included

the National Gallery Sculpture Garden,

the Mall and its Monument,

the men atop the White House 

(aiming either binoculars or rifles at the on-lookers, 

I'm not sure which),

and a few moments of 'where are we?'

until we arrived at our chosen destination:

A luxuriously drawn-out dinner of more than one course at Bistro la Bonne--restoring our souls with Lillet Blanc, assorted cheeses, french onion soup, and mussels drenched in wine and garlic--

and more talking, more laughing, and the making of friends with our waiter from Spain and Jose the busboy.

After what was simply the loveliest of times, we boarded the metro and headed home (through the underground city that appears to be most of Arlington...) where I fell into slumber sweet and profound. (There is nothing--if you ask me--like the luxury of a pantheon of hotel pillows....)

This morning we breakfasted in the lobby, waiting sadly for my very dear friend to be shuttled back to the airport.

The rest of my day was spent dwelling on the ways that children make music, trying not to dwell on the fact that I prefer the real Karen to the inevitable phone tag that will now ensue.  

Tonight my room service burger and I will enjoy the quiet of a night away, doing the work that my life distracts me from on a regular basis.  Tomorrow will involve more conferencing, and then I will drive home in time to pack up the rest of my belongings and wait for my big moving day.  

Life is moving fast, and how did I get such a charmed one?

The living of (a packed) life

Every once in awhile, Amy and I will call each other up and have a conversation that goes like this:

I: "Hey!"
II: "Hey!"
I: "want to run some errands with me?"
II: "Yes!"
I: "ok!"
II: "great!"
etc.

It's called: living life together, and making the most of our time.

One of our favorite places to errand to?

Ollies.  Where we can wander through all the extraneous items we don't need, and find some things we do--for cheap.


[For better or for worse, it is a defining factor of our friendship that we both find joy in finding needed things on the cheap...]

This past week included one of these errand-running days, but it also included an extra layer of living life:

First and foremost: A pit stop at Dairy Queen.

But, most important?

Packing.


If you haven't already heard, here's the official announcement:

In less than two short weeks I will load up my car with box after box and move myself across town, for a brand new living adventure.

So, since those two weeks are closing in, I am happy to say that--with the expertise and aid of dear Amy--the packing is under way.

Stay tuned for an ode to this apartment that I love:
Though the adventure is a good one, this place will be missed.

The Song Sings

 I think the poet William Carlos Williams would have fit very nicely into my little circle of friends, based on his penning of this small line of elegant wordage:

"In summer, the song sings itself."

We are elegant people after all,

and on Tuesday we dwelt in the beauty of a summer's eve, gathering spontaneously for a supper made of grilled turkey burgers and fruit salad.
The perfect summer evening supper, when accompanied by

comfortable conversation and a bit of summer ale.

It had been a long day, after all, what with the moving of all of Emily and Aden's belongings into a nearby storage unit in preparation for the sale of their house and the eventual buying of another.

We were tired.  We were glad for the ease of each other.  We were loving the simplicity of a spontaneous and summery supper.

So, as Amy and Aden relaxed,

Emily and I prepared the food.

Elegantly, of course:

What is it about a summer evening, a fruit salad, and an avocado that makes us just a little giddy?

I think it's really just the company,

singing its' song.

The star of every show from here on out

Just take a moment to look at this precious itty-bitty bundle...

...and you will understand why we Kooistras have been ruined for any familial moment that does not involve her presence.

Since I was in the NYC area, how could I not spend some time cuddling her,

singing to her,

enjoying her?

Of course,

I enjoyed the other members of my family as well,

and appreciated the time to spend in their presence,

but nobody can deny:

she's the one we want.

So what does she think about all this fuss?

That itty-bitty face says all we need to know.