Here's Looking at You

(Our Labor of Love makes us look this good)

Dear Blog Reader,
I am feeling particularly emotional nostalgic today.

Our family, both personally and professionally, has experienced an unusual amount of turbulence lately. And because of this, I'm feeling wistful.

I wish I could even begin to go into detail. If I did it would mean two significant things:

1. I had the time
2. Things weren't all that bad

But I'll be honest; despite this lovely sunshine-filled day, that alerted me to its impending presence at first light and beckoned me all day to succumb to a state of internal bliss, I was feeling glum enough at 6am to call it a day.

It was one of those days, where you just want to pull the covers up over your head, close your eyes, and be granted the opportunity to start all over.

I eventually got to work only to receive more impacting news, that which sent my heart, and head, into a tail spin.

It is times like these where I am thankful to have a partner. Grateful even that this man is my best friend, business associate, and husband.

Because some stuff you just can't explain; some stuff just has to be understood without explanation, and in my case, thankfully, Evan gets it. All of it.

It can be a look, a gesture, a sigh, it doesn't matter. By then he already knows. He is already processing for me, and trying to make things right and/or better for the sake of Us. For the sake of our family, both personally and professionally. These are the moments where I lunge at the opportunity to wrap my arms around this man, blindly follow his lead, and never let go.


Dear City of Portland,
I am falling more in love with you by the second. Which means I am experiencing the most intense emotions of both love and hate simultaneously, wondering where it is that I fit into your life, and how we can possibly move forward. From your river and tree-lined banks, forested hillsides and parks, to your cosmopolitan flare yet compulsively friendly nature. It goes without saying: I am hooked.

We have known each other for almost twenty-eight years, and lived together for twenty-three of those. I would argue that most of them have been good, even great. But I have to be honest and tell you that I am struggling to understand and/or picture our future together.

That is not to say I don't want to make things work.

I am just trying to be realistic when it comes to planning my future...with or without you.

Please give me a sign that we're heading in the right direction. I only want what's best for the both of us.


Dear Memory Wall (located behind the hand-washing sink at the cafe on North Lombard St.),
It breaks my heart that you're literally falling apart.

We have had some wonderful moments over the years: witty comments and memorable customer orders, keepsake thank you cards and wedding menus, photos of basketball tournaments and putt putt golf parties, school portraits, party invitations and Polaroids.

It seems that every morning when I arrive at the cafe, yet another piece of you has fallen victim to gravity. I feel as though I am constantly having to re-attach tape to your coffee-stained-edges in order to put you back together again. I'm not entirely sure if this is really due to a lack of adhesive, or if you already suspect what's coming; the fact that in six weeks you will no longer exist.

Not to say the memories will be forgotten. Never. But I am asking you, from the bottom of my heart, if you could just try to keep it together for the next six weeks.

'Cause it's not over. Not yet anyways. We still have a couple of things left in store for not only you, but for all the patrons of 4823 N. Lombard St.

In other words, despite the ticking clock, there are still memories to be made.