I’m in a post-vacation, post-relaxation, post-Montana mood right now.
My family’s week long trip to the home I grew up in, in Trout Creek, Montana, was a great time. We went hiking, fishing, canoeing, bicycling, exploring and spent great time together.
There was also a bittersweet element to the experience for us, as it was my first extended time staying at the home since I left for college – and more specifically, since my dad passed away. It was hard not to see echoes of his life everywhere – in our neighbors, in the buildings, in photos, everywhere. And, since my mom has since moved to Spokane and my brother and sister have grown up and moved into their own homes as well, the house isn’t permanently occupied, so many of the structures around the property are in decay. Like this baskeball hoop. My childhood hoop.
The family has done a fantastic job of keeping the house up, and cleaning up a lot, but there still are these echoes of disuse that are haunting.
Like many other recent life experiences, this one was deeper than I expected it to be, and it will take me time to process through it all. But it was great to go home again, if only for a week.




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