My grandparents have lived in Montana for my entire life. My siblings and I spent many magical summers at their house, berry picking, hiking, boating, and swinging on on a swing my papa hung from a massive tree in the front yard. The summer before Quinn was born, my grandma passed away. She was a sweet woman who used to go to great lengths to make my sister and I special tea parties. I have fond memories of her laugh and the way she always scratched the top of her head before bed while wearing a full-length nightgown.
My papa still lives in the same small town and we spent the weekend visiting him and many other extended family members, most of whom Quinn met for the first time. I took Ryne and Q to all of my favorite places in Big Fork and wanted to cry at every stop with gratitude to my grandparents for creating such beautiful memories for my siblings and I. Apparently nostalgia and pregnancy hormones are not a good combination. It was foggy, cold, and every tree was ablaze with the colors of fall. We even got to see the season’s first snow. It was magical. Just how I remember it.
