known • knowing
I arrived in Portland just in time to pick up my grandchildren with daughter Alison. Knowing their school is a critical part of knowing them these days and filling out the picture of their lives. Schon knew I would be coming (so thank goodness I made it in time!) and when she saw her Mom began looking. We peeked around bushes and posts at each other and then she started running and flew into my hungry arms. It was just the greatest moment. To be known by a child, to be loved—what greater blessing?
We took a brief tour so now I can talk about the cat and the bushes and the fairies with her. I can ask about Mr. Gallagher and morning tea. And I know the routine of picking up brother Jonah and have a sense of how that feels.
Of course, being known is part of knowing. Since their family lived with us this summer, we can talk about working in my office, their desk next to mine, and about things we did in my house and the toys we all share.
It’s been tough living a huge flight from each other. Now we have a reasonable drive and more frequent opportunity. It’s going to be hard to control the urge to drive, every morning, toward that hug.












