And, really, I had no idea the Browns lived where such farms were. There's a great white church in the middle of the corn fields, and it's where you turn when you're heading to their place. They get to see it on their way home. Laura said it's the perfect place for a wedding. And yeah, you know me, white churches with tall steeples out on the prairie are my one weakness. They look like something from long ago when the land was just beginning and the corn roots new.
She came running from the front door, Laura did, and we did what we always do, what is common among Browns and us. The long, wonderful, tight hugs. :) The tall boy met us at the door. The one, last time I saw him, was only just my height and far more blond than he is now. And there was Peter with his hair slicked back. Phil, sounding like his dad.
You know, you can take all the pictures you want, but it's all the little things not captured on camera that count. You can't capture how happiness feels. Or laughter. Or being with a family you've grown up with. It's a strange feeling, as if you've been there all your life, and were never really ever far apart for so long.