I'd been so lost in my recent shitstorm of cynicism that I'd surrendered the possibility of victories for good guys and happily ever after.
But my kid brother picked me up at my hometown airport Saturday morning and helped me with a difficult task. Years ago he'd gone from being the rowdy jock to what can reverently be described as a good man.
I spent the night at the dream house he and his wife have just built and took my nieces for ice cream for dinner. The house is warm, beautiful and full of love. (You owe it to yourself to check out www.griggsfamily.com after I get home tomorrow to see pictures of their 130-pound Golden Retriever in the mud boots he needs to "visit" the yet unlandscaped back yard.)
My favorite aunt and cousins came over to play cards that night and all looked well and laughed much. Bernie brought me a "writing mug" for inspiration from his wife. Aunt Judy brought old family photographs from my long-deceased, but ever-amazing grandmother.
From there I drove to Alexandria , Va. to discuss a possible project with a friend from high school.
Christmas cards over the years told me he had married his college sweetheart, they built a successful business together and have three super children. They didn't prepare me for the intensity of the family bond or beauty of the historic home they have lovingly restored over the past 17 years. He's the kind of guy who built a treehouse for his kids. His kids are now drawing plans to add a second story with him.
Yes Virginia, there are happy endings.
I write this from the bedroom loft in their carriage house. If not for those awaiting me at my house, I could stay here indefinately.
North, south, island, mainland... houses aren't about stunning srchitectural features. In a way that Martha Stewart apparently never understood, it's the real interiors that matter.
It will be so good to see my husband and daughter tonight.


Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs