On the Shores of the Atlantic

One of the most beautiful part of a city that I can think of is the Old Port in Portland Maine. The cobblestone streets, the smell of the ocean just across the street and all the old buildings and no Wal-Mart in sight; just little shops selling everything imaginable. Heaven. So heavenly in fact, that I, wrapped up in taking in the sweet memory of my beloved Portland, nearly walked into a pole. If it hadn't been for my sweet husband who stuck his arm out to stop me. I was actually looking back at the building in the first picture; the Hay Building. Admit it, it's striking enough that you might walk into a pole just gazing at it too.

Green Acres is the Life for me

Coming back to Maine with Jeff was something I had dreamed of doing ever since I fell in love with him. So finally, here we were, standing in front of the old house that was the scene of my life from age three to eighteen. I had thought about what it would feel like to finally be back at the place; would I burst into tears of joy? sadness? homesickness? Would I cry at all? or will it really not matter that much?

Turns out I didn't cry, but it was good to be back. I think more than the house itself (that has been changed, but I'll get to that) being in the woods really brought me the most satisfaction. Walking with Jeff along the rock wall behind our property, and where Jon and I spent all those hours building a fort, and where I used to come to read when I wanted time to myself. Even though the trees are bigger and the fort is gone, there was a sameness about the forest that was infinitely comforting and familiar.

We did go into the house even though I was hesitant to do so. I didn't want someone else's reality messing with my memories. But in the end, it was cool to see the kitchen remodeled and that huge fireplace opened up. They actually use the brick oven to make pizzas! Some of the remodeling I liked (they ripped up the carpet and refinished those old wood floors, it looks great) and some I didn't (the furniture, the drapes, the wallpaper, hmm....) but it was good. You'll be happy to note that the attic, in all it's non insulated steamy heat has not changed a bit, it's just exchanged it's interior to hold someone else's beloved cast-offs.

So what do you do with a visit like this? I certainly don't want to rewind my life and go back to that time, I like my life now and all I've experienced. But being there filled me with a homesickness, for the air and the trees and the summer. Maybe that is why is important to visit, though I've been in Utah for all these years, Maine still feels like home.

To Life! To Life! Le Chiem!

I really don't know what I have to complain about. Life is pretty sweet. Maya's baptism, Lola's new puppies. Here's to birth and rebirth, what a beautiful world we live in. It makes me think about the day I was baptized. It was such a simple choice, so obviously right and so comforting and warm in its rightness. I'm afraid the more I saw of this world the harder it was to find simple choices. I learned lots of good and bad things; I found out that heroes fall, history is neither perfect nor easily understood, and there is pain that can't be fixed with a band-aid and a good nap. That is why I think there is birth. Besides the obvious reasons of promoting life on the planet, I think God wants us to be reminded of perfection, beauty and hope. The moment anyone comes out of the waters of baptism they get to feel that feeling (albeit a little less messy) of rebirth, of starting out fresh and new. To see those tiny puppies in my hands made me remember some of this world's absolutes; love is real, God is real and beauty happens every day. So here's to an imperfect world that gives us such a great contrast to really see what is beautiful. And most of all, here's to Maya for making that simple and yet profound choice, and letting us all see one more moment of perfection. Love you sweetie.

Amy