"Then in the Arctic half light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories...Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs."
--Norman Mclean, A River Runs Through It
While playing with Asher this morning, he used his now-perfected army crawl to propel himself across the room to grab his Sock Monkey. Now, for those of you who do not know, giving a Sock Monkey to newly minted family members is a Howard-Reece Family Tradition. (A tradition, by the way, that a certain Howard-Reece-Woytek woman probably needs to take up as her progeny have been especially prolific in adding to the brood in the last 15 or so months). While he was playing with his Sock Monkey from Baba, I thought of this picture, which captures the pure joy that Baba exuded...joy that obviously rubbed off on Asher and her 8 other great-grandchildren (soon to be 9 with another boy on the way in Idaho). We all miss Baba, but Norman Maclean's quote seems fitting. She's neither gone, nor forgotten. She was always at home in the Canyon and on the River. We'll always tell Asher that, if you listen closely, you can hear her words echoing off the canyon walls, just below the steady rumble of the river.
