I’m writing this from my sister’s sunny kitchen in Montana. The coffee pot is ticking away, filling the air with that crème brûlée aroma I love, and the house is pleasantly quiet. I have only the dog for company, and I’m grateful he’s content because I’m not much of a pet caregiver. Right now I’m soaking in the simple comfort of the morning sunlight and the promise of a slow cup of coffee.
Our busy summer at camp has wrapped up, and before it completely ended we squeezed in a quick road trip. Over the last six days we covered many miles in the car, and long drives always give me time to think. Lately one thought has kept returning:
Seasons.
This trip marked more than a change in the weather; it signaled a significant season shift in our family life. The real reason behind the drive was to take our son to college. Whether I felt ready or not, the moment had arrived to help him settle into this new chapter. The milestone was beautiful and bittersweet at once, a reminder that life keeps moving forward.
It feels like it was just yesterday he was bouncing around in a jolly jumper, and yet here we are. Time moves in odd ways—both quick and gradual—and watching children grow up is the clearest example of that. The change tugs at the heart. It’s a season of adjustment for me; I’ll admit it stings a little. Still, I’m intentionally looking for the beauty in this transition, much like appreciating the colors of autumn leaves as the weather cools.
The day before we dropped Joel off, we were all together as a family to celebrate my in-laws’ 50th wedding anniversary. That celebration made me realize how rare it is for everyone to be in the same place at the same time. I seized the moment and took a family photo—one I’m sure will appear again on our Christmas card. Those gathered hours felt timeless, a precious pause before the new routine began.
After getting Joel settled, we drove down to Montana for a quick visit with my family. The trip truly was brief, but it was full of heart. My emotions swung between the joy of greeting loved ones and the sorrow of saying goodbye. The visits felt too short, yet every moment was meaningful. I found myself savoring each conversation and every shared meal, knowing these small interactions are what build and hold family memories together.
One beautiful surprise during the visit was meeting new little ones in the family. I remember being in sixth grade when my first nephew was born; now I held his own newborn daughter in my arms. That generational circle—watching children become parents—is another kind of season, full of tenderness and hope. Seeing those tiny faces reminded me how life continues to evolve and how each new arrival rewrites our family story.
I’m especially grateful I got to give my mom a long hug. Those small gestures—an embrace, a quiet conversation, a shared laugh—are what I want to hold onto as our family moves into this next chapter. For now, I’m treasuring a few peaceful days with my sister and her family before we head back home and settle into new routines.
When we return, our youngest will start school (a week later than planned), and I’ll need to envision what this next season looks like for me. I feel the winds of change stirring, and I’m curious about where they will lead. Change can be unsettling, but it also offers opportunity: more time for reflection, new rhythms, and the chance to explore new interests or deepen relationships in different ways.
When that photo of Joel and me was taken, I’m fairly certain he whispered, “This better not end up on the blog!”—and yet here it is. That’s the thing about family stories: they belong to all of us, and they keep showing up in unexpected, lovely ways.
