The day after Christmas, mom rode back into New York and I traveled on to Oregon with Uncle Walt to surprise my grandparents (all of whom, had been laying the guilt trip on me for weeks). While I was mostly excited to see my family, I couldn’t help but acknowledge the pang of joy in my heart as I spotted a dozen black dots from my window seat in the small airplane above Redmond, Ore.
What really made me feel at home was the first order of business upon landing in Redmond. The urgent notification on my uncle’s phone when we landed was a text from my second brother, Andrew. “Can you pick up some 22 shells on the way home?”