For days I'd been eager for her to get here, and as a son and I waited for her to walk through the train station doors, I spotted her head and shoulders through a window. In a moment this daughter would walk right up to where we were.

We waited a few floating moments for her luggage, and got it, complete with a tiny unassuming pale purple ribbon she had tied to its carrying handle. For about three and a half days I would mostly have her all to myself.

When we planned this visit, and I asked her what she'd most enjoy while here, she said she'd like to eat at a restaurant that's been in the neighborhood so long, it's related to our family history. Over the years we've celebrated births and weddings, and graduations, and one or two divorces there.

The other exciting event she hoped to experience was a trip to a thrift store. I promised I'd try really hard to make sure we went.

Our family's never claimed to be high society. You'd have to look far in our ordinary village to find monograms on towels or bed linens. But I had discovered a top sheet with lacy looking edges, so I made sure it was on her bed, which consisted of a spread out Futon, and an inflated air mattress. She told me several times that she slept well; that the bed was very comfortable, so I'm taking her word on that.

She really is an extraordinary lady. I've known her all her life, of course, but you know her as Barb, who began bloggging by admitting she febrezes her little dog, Chelsea. Most likely you'll recognize her blog. It is named after it, "A Chelsea Morning".

I truly believe that the less time we spend in kitchens, or forever scrubbing bathrooms, the more time we'll have for fun and play. When Barb happened to open the fridge here, she saw what she described as "her favorite things". I stocked it with everything I could think of that didn't require cooking. Some of it we never got to eat. Julie Andrews wasn't anywhere around here, but the two of us laughed and sometimes almost sang, as we munched on earlier prepared guacamole and chips, and shrimp with my special sauce. When we got really hungry, we hurried over to eat at that neat little place our family's made famous with its ill fated romances.

We stayed up late talking so long, both of us needed a break. Other times we spent with Barb's brothers who are here, and Emails sailed back and forth between she and her sister, Bev, at "Scratchin' the Surface".

Much too soon the last day we'd have together came around. We talked of many things, bared the deepest parts of ourselves. Some of it from the past, but most of it was about the now. Things I suppose many families deal with, and one more remained. We needed to go to the grave of my son who isn't with us anymore.

Much as I wanted to go there,still, it is hard. But we did go, and stood staring at his name written out as everyone's buried in a military cemetery is. I walked a few feet away, and turned to take one last look before leaving, then noticed some people not far from us.

A middle aged couple were holding each other's outstretched hands across a burial plot, and their heads were bowed. A little ways from them an older man who was all by himself teetered a bit, and almost seemed to fall, though he braced himself with a cane. With only one hand He made the sign of the Cross upon his chest, then like someone trying to make a piece of puzzle fit in the wrong placees, he checked his feet everywhere he stepped. Knowing they were there for the same reason as us, and seeing their faith spill out as naturally as breathing, was such a testimony.

Barb and I had one more thing to do. I purposely saved it for last. We found a nice sized thrift store that had many items to check out. We crammed so much into each hour, and suddenly the days were ending, It was time to take Barb back to the Amtrak station.

Again, she checked her bag with the tiny purple ribbon tied onto it. After goodbyes, and one last hug, she walked down the hall to the train that would take her home. A wisp of wind seemed to catch her hair, as though it was trying to carry her along, and I didn't want her to go.

I watched as long as I could see her; watched until her bright yellow top paled. Then we headed for the car. But when I got home I couldn't make myself stay. I got back in the car, and did shopping I didn't even need. After a while I will be allright, and busy settling in my new home. Barb will be more than busy, with the holidays, and Cameron's little sister. Bev will have more to do than any of us, as retirement comes closer. Love truly has its own schedule, but sometimes I want to hold on to it a little longer.