tiny town, big love

wow, it's really hard to believe.
i woke up this morning realizing it was 2 years ago today.
the day after my dad, her son's, birthday. the day before what would be her 74th wedding anniversary.
there has never been anyone in my life that has had such a simple, easy presence the way my gramma had.
in so many ways i feel like it must have been 3 years ago, or 5 years ago, at least.
it feels like my grief and this hole has been here much much longer. 
it gets smaller one day but then the next it is big and huge and knocking on the back of my eyelids making tears roll again. i don't suppose and i surely don't expect it to ever be gone. i guess that's the beauty and the truth to memories.

in september i went back to that tiny town in eastern montana. the last time i was there it was for her funeral and i left thinking i'd never be back. what was there for me now? it was a place i had spent weeks and weeks in the summer months during my childhood. it was the place that looked different, felt different and smelled different. a good different. in a way it was part of the kendra kay mold. all memories i hold so dear. 
but there is something still there for me. i have aunts and uncles and greats. i have cousins and land. i have memories. they are different than the memories i make now when i visit and i always feel a little fade of the past as things change and the present becomes stronger than the past but this is okay. it's gotta be right?

this trip my mom and dad as well as my biggest little came. i was so happy that biggest came with. she had never been and it was so fun to show her montana as i knew it.

ready for it? it's long.

the biggest walking through the school yard playground

 the old, and still working, gas pumps

 an old shed

 horses horses everywhere

 the mark of a great hunter

 grain elevators always seemed like the largest "buildings" in the world to me as a small child

 the only clothing store in town

 my friend, who i fed often. once shy, she learned to recognize me and love my visits

 these 2

 dane valley church my dad attended when small and where my grandparents rest

 seeing my dad visit graves pulled at my heart strings

 francis martin, my gramma's brother, shot down in WWII, war hero

family oil well, pumping away

 me and my 40 acres. the middle of nowhere doesn't always sound so bad some days

 teddy roosevelt, our ride for the day

 the biggest little and teddy

 my biggest, teaching my gramma's sister, marguerite, how to work her kindle-
the gap between 18 and 93

 the montana bar

 this fencepost holds brands of the old farmers

 me and my mama's shadow in the afternoon sun

 first time the biggest rode a horse. she learned quick-it's in the blood

many hours spent in this spot as a child. many

 the phone on the farm-still works

 my dads school growing up. he walked a long ways and truly lots of it is sorta uphill

 farm dogs. that german shepard will let you lay on him

 the long road out the farm

this use to be the grocery store

 quite possibly my favorite picture of the trip. this is my dad on the day of his communion in 1955. if you look closely you can see his reflection i caught in the glass 58 years later.

what a great trip we had. filled a girls soul.
for the people in my life, you aren't allowed to leave.
sorry, but i don't do well with it.
it's me and you til the end.
okay?.

*written monday the 21st.

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