Abe,
While your grandparents were here we took them into the Columbia Gorge to Multnomah Falls and the Bonneville Dam. You were packed so tightly in foul weather gear, you couldn't relax your arms. You slept so peacefully, even as we ventured under the train trestle as a long freighter roared overhead. You woke, glanced at this deisel-powered thunderstorm, yawned and dropped back to sleep. The falls didn't seem to get you that excited either.
I love this picture of your Mom with her Dad, your Grandpa Lou. I love the sparkle in her eyes and smile. It's plain as day how I could fall so endlessly in love with her. And I like how your Grandpa's hair disappears into the waterfall, like he was wearing the world.
After the falls, we drove to the dam and watched a million coho salmon surging through narrow chutes, heading home for the last time. This is the very place your friend Matt spent the moments of your birth, marveling at the strength and determination of our native salmon and the magic of the strange weather that signaled your arrival.
This world is endless beautiful loops.
Pa-