Knowing Your Place

Are we perhaps fitted with an internal GPS at birth which guides us, sometimes via unexpected detours, to our geographical destiny? As a young person, I longed to leave the familiar. I didn't know where I was headed but was certain I wasn't there yet. My map was small, primarily defined by my native state. Before my teen-age years lapsed, I'd relocated thousands of miles away and yet my journey wasn't complete.

At an even younger age, my husband saw beyond his small New York town and recognized an unrelenting quest for the west. The Air Force kindly deposited him twice in the region and the third time he made the move permanent.

With such parents as examples, we should have realized that our daughter would inherit wandering genes. While remaining in the same time zone, she's deserted the desert and claimed a wet, woodsy zip code as her own. Thus Portland is an annual destination for us with the specific time period chosen to fit within her busy schedule and coincide with the area's warmer months.

We're acutely aware that our visits need to be contained and that they sometimes twist her bustling calendar uncomfortably. We haven't forgotten where we belong.

As this September's visit fades to memory, these are my favorite Portland impressions:

A brewpub meal followed by a visit to Pix for a pastry called 'Amelie,' a chocolate bombe confection with hazelnut creme.



The Way Out West music festival souvenir tendered from daughter to dad.



Meeting Caitlin's new work colleagues inside an impressive National Historic Site registered building.



A moment of silliness as Henry and I, resplendent in orange, pose during an Oregon State event in a city park.



The staircase moment with mom and daughter.



Our favorite couple's exhilerating agenda.



Feeling like family at the Lilly gathering.



Admiring PDX Jackie's garden, tended with obvious love.



Dangling an old shoelace and then watching a dancing laser beam intrigue the grandcats, Georgia and Enid.



Repeated visits to multiple Burgerville locations for healthy turkey burgers and delectable smoothies.

An Italian evening featuring four young people being carded as we get to know the charming and delightful Portland friends, Conor and Jonathan.

Wandering the labyrinth at IKEA, hunting for new shelving to accommodate Caitlin's escalating book collection.

Rediscovering Kettleman's Bagels, the best export from Long Island.

Snuggling under an umbrella as unpredicted rain drenches sidewalks and streets.

Blissfully flitting from one Nordstrom's to another in shopping abandon.

Admiring newly purchased clothes for the young professional and wryly realizing that the Junior Department may be part of her past, not her future.

Hearing about a possum encounter in the front yard and the plucky dash inside sans animal.

Pondering menu selections at the Thai restaurant nestled among the food trucks in downtown.

And finally, listening intently to that 'Disneyland' voice, observing repeated smiles as life slices are detailed and knowing that she's found her place and her person with whom to share it.