Kalispell and Memories!

Next stop, Kalispell, Montana where I had the opportunity to catch up with a distant relative (Gina) and her family; what an awesome visit we had. 

Thanks to her husband Hans, we ventured out on Flathead Lake on kayaks and enjoyed a beautiful evening ride.  Gina relaxed and let Hans chauffer her around since she was recovering from a medical procedure. Though my kayaking skills are nil and improvement is definitely needed, I was grateful for Hans’ patience and guidance! Sorry folks, no kayaking pictures; thought it best to leave the phone/camera behind.

The remainder of the weekend brought time to relax, chat, read, meditate and catch up on the last 35+ years. Neither of us could remember—oh memory; wait, make that oh memories!  We reminisced about horseback riding as kids, tried hard to remember the last time we actually saw each other, and enjoyed discussing the Huss ancestry.

Thanks Gina for sharing the old  memories and making new ones...

 

Our chatting room...

Gina's fingerpainting tree!



Meditation garden statute...note the frog :)

Georgeous flowers!

Fresh greens from the garden



Flathead cherries...YUM!!



Leif's guitar...listened to many tunes...thanks Leif!



Ahh, barefoot in real grass!

One last note, I wanted to share a poem written by Gina reflecting on Grandma Huss (in my case Great-Grandma Huss) and her love.  Hope you enjoy as much as I did!

Grandmother’s Mosaic of Love

Pieces of love stitched with prayers.

Treasures of time tossed towards the shore,

Oceans of color etched with love.

Quilts of hope, drowning our sorrow.

Stories in scraps, mosaics of love;

Grandmother’s blessings stitched into time.

 

Eyes that twinkle. Stars sparkling. Fireflies dance.

And sunlight catches on the splashing water.

Dewdrops hold a world of mystery and so do tears.

Mosaics in time, discarded and tossed into the field of summer.

Darkness and light, mosaics of color stitched by hand.

A quit is a story of all that has past.

Boys to war, the bottle kills slowly, to watch

Death come turns hearts to stone.

Girls with their babies bundled with dreams.

Stitches in time on patches of love.

Blessings and dreams in twinkling eyes,

Grandmother’s mosaic of love.

Gina Garlie August 11, 2002

(My grandmother was so loving. She made quilts for all her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. I know that she stitched prayers and blessings into each and every quilt.)