Generations

Eight years ago my oldest daughter moved to Pennsylvania with my second granddaughter.  I couldn't imagine traveling the distance to see them.  But here we are so many years later and I travel up so often that I believe my car knows the way without me.  My sweet husband and always come bearing gifts.  More often than not, I bring food!  It is the language I speak when I want to communicate love.  I stock her freezer and whisk her off to the grocery store to stock up.  It makes me happy and sets my mind at ease when I leave.....I know that for the next month or two they will have food.  

Since that time eight years ago, two more children have come along to call me Nona...the Italian name for Grandma.....and another one will arrive in May.

We arrived on the winds of a cold front.  The low temperatures and hills dotted with white lights made it feel as if the holiday season had begun.  Once we unpacked our bags, we were informed that a fireworks show was about to begin in their little borough.   Walking a few blocks with neighbors we got to see experience a firework show that marked the beginning of the holiday season here.  Woo hoo!

After a delicious dinner at an Irish pub, we did some grocery shopping.  Inspired by all the holiday spirit we grabbed the fixings for an early Thanksgiving meal. Tomorrow the language will be food and for me it will translate to love.  An unplanned family feast.  But until then, this little girl and I will sit side by side drinking tea and write.