Monday, July 15, 2013

fear, you are dismissed.

We just got back from a rainy and cool five days in Tennessee visiting our recently transplanted family for the 4th of July. We sat on the back deck looking out at the valley nestled below the Smoky Mountains and watched the rain while four generations played games ranging from Go Fish to 42 and chatted about anything and everything. The pyromaniacs of the family shot off fireworks and became real-life examples to the children of why fireworks are dangerous and often result in the singeing of fingers.

On Friday night, however, I squeezed my nieces and nephews a little tighter, because I was pretty sure the next day would be my last.