I came home last night to 3 intact children, a hubby who cooked dinner, and a spotless house. My crew survived the weekend without me--just like I knew they would. Maybe I should get away more often...
My weekend on the East Coast for my grandmother's funeral was bittersweet. The sting of the realization that Grandnannie is truly gone was tempered with the joy of reconnecting with so many of my loved ones. Grandnannie was well-respected and the outpouring of love and admiration made it obvious.
As a treat to myself, I decided to upgrade to First Class on the flight back to Seattle. It was absolutely worth it. Did you know they address you as "MR." or "MRS." __________ <--insert your last name here?! I was totally amused by this. I have flown a kazillion times before, but I've always had The Brownies in tow. First Class had become a fleeting dream that seemed to pass me by as easily as I had passed by those coveted first rows of seating on my way to coach.
I felt guilty at first. Maybe this was a frivolous waste of money ~ in a recession, no less! But I swallowed hard, shifted my weight in my oversized leather seat, stretched out my legs, like--A MILE in front of me, spread out my Sunday edition of The Washington Post, smiled as the Milano cookie touched my lips, and thought to myself: I'm just doing my part to help stimulate the economy. And it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.
I had to capture this precious moment. They are just a few of my grandmother's 45+ great-grandchildren.
Hopefully, this is a one of the scenes we'll be seeing a lot more of soon...
The view from my First Class upgrade. Yeaaaah, boyeeeee!