A 4 a.m. alarm rings on my cell phone.
I’m awake, sort of.
I’ve never been a fan of flying. The combination of a fear of heights and being confined in a cylinder hurtling through the air at a subsonic rate raises my anxiety to a near unmanageable state. Add to that three rambunctious boys who have a knack for indiscriminate acts of rage, and you’ve created a scenario that’s a hair’s breadth from a nightmare. Yet, Jess and I have put ourselves through this — repeatedly.
Miraculously, on this chaotic morning, Jess and I have managed to get to the airport on time with Callan (7), Wyatt (5), and Nolan (3) in tow; bags checked, tickets in hand. There’s a 7 a.m. boarding call for our flight to Minneapolis, and we’re on our way. No major meltdowns, no coffee mishaps. Could this be a dream?
I’m awake, sort of.
Minnesota, Ho!
The five of us are en route to the Midwest for Jess’ grandmother’s 90th birthday — a milestone worth celebrating. Jess spent her early years growing up near Minneapolis before relocating to New Jersey during her middle school years. My only previous encounter with Minnesota was a trip to Pauline and Jean’s (Jess’ grandparents) place when Callan was barely two. Oh, and there was that one time I visited with Salomon Freeski TV while on my way to the Winter XGames.
In the land of the Dacotahs,
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, “The Song of Hiawatha”
Where the Falls of Minnehaha
Flash and gleam among the oak-trees,
Laugh and leap into the valley.
While sightseeing isn’t the main agenda, we do manage to squeeze in a bit. We take a few laps on the roller coaster inside the vast Mall of America and embark on an urban hike through Minnehaha Regional Park, visiting the cascade that inspired Longfellow’s “The Song of Hiawatha.”
But this isn’t primarily a sightseeing trip.
It is a trip to see family. It’s a trip of finding joy in company and connections; new and old. Cousins. Aunts. Uncles. Parents. Grandparents.
Great Grandparents.
It’s a trip to be with family. To share moments. Here are a few of those moments.
