I can’t look at my FIL without thinking of my Dad. When I reached out to him for a hug, I remembered all those Saturday mornings they went golfing together… or the nights they’d drive us all the baseball park for a game. In a little while, I’ll be climbing into his van, for a long ride back down to Oregon, and dang it… I think I’m going to cry. Having my in-laws here seemed horrible, when I first thought of it, and now I’m glad. Chris’ parents are as welcoming and soft as I remembered, especially his dad.

I keep calling him Rodney, because I desperately want to call him Dad. I spent enough time at his house as a kid, he took care of me just like mine did.. And he was so close to mine…but I haven’t. I don’t know where that line is with in-laws? I know a lot of women who call their in-laws Mom and Dad, but I don’t want to push it… you know?

All of my stuff is packed (almost), I just have to put together some gluten free biscuit mix to take to my Mom’s… and I’m gone. For some reason I’m putting it off. I don’t want to leave Chris for a week…I don’t want to wave goodbye to my little house, annoying dog, and wonderful husband. Until this moment it wasn’t clear to me where home was. Part of me still wanted it to be my Mom’s house… but it’s here. I am going to miss it, all of it. But damn if vacation isn’t going to be wonderful.