Dorothy said it, and I’ve always believed it. This is our last day of vacation in Southern Wisconsin. Tomorrow we aim the car northwest, and (God willing) five or six hours later we’ll be picking our above- pictured little treasure at Critter Sitters–his doggie resort.
Critter Sitters is a wonderful place, but indeed it is a last resort for us. I can’t stand to be away from Baby Dylan for any length of time. And judging from the way he hides in our basement when we get the suitcases out for a trip, and goes bananas with joy when we come home from the trip, he has separation anxieties as well.
(Two kinds of people will be reading this entry: 1) Those who sigh and say, “Oh I understand!” and 2) The other kind–those raise their eyebrows and wrinkle up their noses because they don’t understand about dogs.)
We’ve had a fine vacation. The weather has been challenging, but no plans were cancelled. We had many special events, starting with our granddaughter Nicole’s surprise engagement party.
I mean SURPRISE! Travis knelt down and asked Nicole to marry him in front of God and about 50 family members and friends, and then (after Nicole said “Yes”) put a lovely diamond on her finger. Nicole had been waiting and hoping, but the timing and setting were a total surprise to her.
Other events included a grandson’s luncheon treat at Watt’s Tearoom, home gatherings, The Nutcracker, the arrival of our daughter Martina who lives and teaches in Nigeria, meals at favorite restaurants, eating too much, eating too much, and eating too much. (In all seriousness, we do have a decadent society!)
Of course the big event was Christmas. Our family is united in celebrating the Reason for the season, and our time together was precious. We spent the day at our daughter Debbie’s home where we enjoyed watching the antics of four great-grandchildren–ages 3 and under. (The 3 year-olds are almost 4.)
On Christmas afternoon, I received a gift I’ll never forget. We were sitting around Debbie’s living room, when Debbie announced, “Mom, here is a Merry Christmas from Ireland.” Then in strolled a piper, dressed in an Irish tartan kilt and black beret, bag-piping his heart out.
The pibroche included “Amazing Grace”, and most of us were moved to tears. (A couple of the toddlers were moved to tears also, but because they were terrified. They had to be assured that everything was okay, despite the sudden, unfamiliar sound of skirling pipes.)
The piper is the son of one of Debbie’s friends. Everyone knows that I desire to have a piper at my funeral. I believe that a bagpiped version of “Amazing Grace” is one of the most stirring sounds on earth–perhaps second only to the music of Canada geese winging northward in the spring.
After the piping, my husband came to me with tears in his eyes and said, “That was beautiful. Now you don’t have to die!”
Today is Sunday, December 28th. In the remaining hours of our vacation, I’ll be having lunch with my good friend, Karen. This evening Joe and I plan to meet our family at Pizza Hut for a grand finale supper. We like the free refills on soda, and the price of pizza is always right!
We won’t be tempted to over-eat at Pizza Hut tonight because that Phantom of the Holidays, THE TUMMY FLU, is stalking our large family. Some of us have been felled already, some of us are beginning to look green around the gills, and some of us are just being very cautious about eating.
Tomorrow, God willing, Joe and I will be back in “God’s Country”, hugging our Baby Dylan. “There’s no place like home!”
Margaret L. Been–All Rights Reserved
(Piper–Wils Quinn)