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Love languages




I've always known the love language my children speak.... since they were little.

Rob took me a bit longer.

I know my parents languages and lately I've been thinking much more about my siblings, Rob's siblings, and my dearest friends.

It's taken years to figure out which one I am..... since it's been kind of a tie between three.... but recently, it finally happened.  And although it's one I'm not super pleased about, it is me.  It's what makes me feel secure and safe and loved.  And just because someone doesn't show me love in this certain way (because obviously we all have our own language), it doesn't mean I'm not going to have a connection with them.  It just means that in my deeply closest, most personal and intimately emotional relationships, this area is what does it for my heart.... and it's how my heart gives and shows it to others.

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"'Dear God,' she prayed, 'let me be something every minute of every hour of my life.'"   ~Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Lake McDonald, Montana

Have I ever talked about my thing for rocks?  Have had it since I was a little girl.... loved to collect rocks and go to rock shops.  I even have a few sitting next to my bed (nothing bigger than what fits in the palm of your hand) right now that've caught my fancy the last year or so... or that someone's given me.  Like the small white one Ally gave to me from our trip to the Olympic Peninsula in Washington, at the Quileute Indian Reservation beach (okay, yeah... so it was really to see 'Twilight' country, but we saw some pretty amazing scenery as well)... and then a black rock Rob found on our trip to the Oregon Coast last year. Anyway... there's this lake in Montana ... Lake McDonald ... obviously from the subject heading... and it's got shores of brightly-colored rocks.  So guess what got added to the bucket list as soon as I saw the photos?  Yep... I will go there... for the rocks.... just to see the pretty colors.