The Best Things

Only the loyal-est of my readers will ever see this blog. Because by now you will have given up on me. I can't even remember the last time I wrote, or what I wrote about. I am pretty sure I will continue to be inconsistent until or after March 24th, when we return from our annual pilgrimage to Seattle for Spring Break. Bear with me.

This evening I was checking email and weather. Hope springs eternal that I will a) receive electronic correspondence, and b) that it will snow before our current guests return to Seattle after a 9-day visit. (A brief history of weather in Anchorage over the last month: 40 degrees and meltage.)

The guests of the week are the King/Neil clan: Kaylin, Dave, Kiley and Tyler. Kaylin and I worked together in the same office. Dave is her husband; Kiley is 3 (just two months younger than Ellie, and her twin separated in utero - I mean that literally: wait until I post a pic of them together!) and Tyler who, at 8 1/2, is one year older than Jack.

I would call it an immensely successful visit, were it not for the vicious attack of kittens (aka stomach flu) that Kaylin experienced two days ago, and completely incapacitated her.

So far everyone else has been spared, but every time one of the kids is a little extra fussy, or someone picks at their food, the adults just freeze in terror.

Ironically, two weeks before they came, I had a horrible dream that the second they crossed our threshold upon arriving in Anchorage, Kiley bent over and started spewing. I told Kaylin about the dream and she laughed nervously.

The dream may have been evidence of psychic ability on my part, or it may have been simple paranoia. Kaylin's family and mine have an history of sharing kittens. Five years ago, when Jack was only two and Sabrina one, I returned to my former place of employment for a short-term work project. It was a full-time job for just seven weeks. Dave, who was home with the kids during the day, was willing to be hired as a daycare provider for my kids during those seven weeks.

At some point during that time, kittens came to visit. We kept passing it around, and I think it took several weeks before it all passed. Though I have chosen to block them out of my memory, I seem to recall memories from Dave about my kids vomiting in his home. When Tyler got it, it seemed like he was going to have it forever.

But like all things in life, even Armageddon (as we called that particular episode) had its end. So here we are, five years later (almost to the day, mind you), and we are in a totally different context. There are three more kids in the mix since those days (a chance to double our fun) and miles away.

I can't speak for Kaylin and Dave, or Bruce or any of the kids, but I have LOVED having them here. I wish they would stay forever. I am fantasizing we are a little commune slurping down pots of coffee, making mounds of pb&js, and buring the mudroom in winter paraphernalia.

We haven't done a ton of stuff since the King/Neils have been here, but at least we've gotten out each day. We've gone sledding, gone downtown, gone to the zoo, and eaten out a couple times. We've had great conversation and laughed A LOT! I'm considering drugging them so they can't leave. Kaylin is pretty sure I'll breathe a sigh of relief when they go. If she only knew how wrong she is. There are few people as delightful in the world as this family. I can't imagine life without them in my house. I tried to express myself to Kaylin tonight with the words, "You complete me," while clumsily trying to assemble dinner.

Being reminded of the wonderful friends and family that are still in Seattle is very hard. But I have a hard time imagining being back there. Kaylin and Dave have told us about the changes that have occured even since we moved. None of it tugs at us. What does tug are relationships, beaches, and tall, tall trees.

For about five minutes, Kaylin and Dave played with the idea of life in Anchorage before quickly dismissing it. The same things that discourage Bruce and I from wanting to return are the things that make them want to leave. But the things that make them stay are the very things that continue to tug at us. What makes one person cross the line towards major change? I don't know. It doesn't matter.

Man, I'm gonna stop writing now. Wine has made my head fuzzy (though I'm still able to type). No more waxing poetic tonight. For now my desires are simple: one more large glass of wine, three inches of new snow, and a little bit more good conversation. Meanwhile, exhausted though I am, sleep can wait. The best things in life cannot.