L-O-V-E

Rose Garden, Portland, OR

How do I spell love?

I've felt it in so many ways on this trip.

Before I left, a friend gave me a care package for the road.  Chocolates and a t-shirt and a book to meditate with and a journal and a bubble wand.  (I haven't had a bubble wand in YEARS!).  I was touched beyond words.

I felt it from my family in Minnesota, who changed their plans around to accommodate my schedule.  As they always do when I show up, they opened their homes and their hearts.

I felt it from the couple who loaned me their ladder and glass cleaner and helped me clean the remains of the North Dakota bugs off my van.  (This was no small matter - I've never seen bugs spatter like those bugs did; they not only got the windshield, they managed to dirty the front foot of the side windows.)

One night, at a KOA in eastern Washington, I pulled in just for a place to stay.  I exchanged a few words with the gentleman across the way; turned down the offered drink; I was tired.  The next morning, as I was getting ready to leave, there was a knock on the door.  Would I like a piece of fresh banana bread for the road?

I felt it from Tim, quietly mapping out options for my first night after I was to leave them in Portland; he noted down a couple of options he was sure I'd like.  (and I did...)  I felt it from Jane, emptying her fridge to make sure mine was stocked as I left them.

From the couple in central Kansas.  Again, it was the end of a long day's drive; they were in the campsite next to mine.  They gave me a drink and invited me, a stranger, to dinner.

And from my son, when I got home, cheerfully making trip after trip to help me unload the world's largest travelling suitcase.  And from the friend, sure I wouldn't want to head back out to the store after I'd finally made it home, who brought over some milk and produce to tide me over for a few days.  And from the friend who always takes a minute to send a kind word about almost every blog post.

Love Is.