I’ve been hunting

Patrick and I went to Illinois to visit my family. I have never lived in Illinois, but my blood runs deep with corn, soybeans and prairie grass filled plains.  My dad’s entire side of the family lives in a small town named Heyworth, Illinois.  This place is magical and very special to me.  My memory works in strange ways, and I only remember snippets of my childhood spent at the family farm.  I recall things such as: red popsicles on Grandma’s front porch in the hot and humid summer air, new baby kittens, creaky screen doors and giggle ridden cousin slumber parties, being 3 feet tall in the towering corn fields, crystallized nose hairs, frozen eyeballs and ice fishing, Grandpa making fresh Indian corn popcorn cured from the fields, learning to knit with Grandma; but most of all I remember pure and simple love and happiness.  This kind of happiness cannot be synthesized, it is raw and real.  This is the kind of happiness that Patrick and I just experienced.  My heart is filled to the brim with love and kindness, but the edges are outlined in a sort of melancholy sadness.  My family is too far away, and I miss them.

Days are precious and so are people, so shouldn’t our days be filled with the ones we love and cherish?

This is the Dewey family farm. It is beautiful.

The boys and their bounty.

Patrick earned the title "Warrior Hunter" for his bounty and his skill!!

This is where my Aunt and Uncle got married. It is filled with memories and beautiful stories!

The "bean" and the Chicago city-scape.

Ms. Monroe.

The big ones.

Although I did not come home with one single pheasant, quail or chukar that I shot, I did come home a more masterful hunter.  I know where to find love so thick it runs like maple syrup.  I know where to find warmth when I am cold.  And I know where to find honest to goodness peace and kindness that fills my soul full to the brim.

I hope each of you have a family to share love and kindness with. xx


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