Stopping in Deep Creek Canyon, I dipped my feet in the cool clear water. Was I washing something away or being baptized into something new? We say goodbye to each landmark as we pass through this transition. We will return, but the farewells are a way of holding. Last night John told me he liked the way I look in Montana. Today as we drove away from our last tearful Two Dot good-byes I realized that I like who I am in Montana. What kind of hold can a location have that it alters how we view ourselves? Does that view remain rooted to the soil, the rocks, the people and plants of that place? Or can it be carried with you?
As we drove away from Two Dot and the beautiful rolling Rockies and big sky, I thought of all the doors and windows I was passing… hundreds and hundreds, but none of them containing the faces of those I choose, non of them situated in the landscape I call my own. Finally we wound into the Cascades with their jagged peaks green even in this dry summer. Once on the other side, we turned into a developed community with similar looking homes, but only one door beckoned to us. Our son opened to our ringing and took us upstairs where his wife was reading to our grandson. I caressed his pudgy feet and was glad to be back. Because of this, all of this, we will drive back and forth and back and forth between the two places and people we love. And I will continue to see how much of each place I can carry with me.
