Haverhill, NH

The calendar switched from February to March while Boyfriend and I were in Haverhill, New Hampshire with his entire family--gathered at his grandfather's home. The circumstances were less than ideal--a celebration of the life of his late grandmother, a woman I was not fortunate to know.

The older I grow the more difficult being together with loved ones becomes. So while this was not how I had hoped to meet Boyfriend's brother and extended family, this is real life. Funeral (and weddings alike) bring people together, most often regardless of external circumstances.

The weekend can only be described as warm and nice, comforting. There was a ceremony, where more than 250 people gathered in a church with a congregation of about 30 people, followed by a reception hosted by their church. Shortly after, family and close friends assembled at their home for dinner and drinks (and oh my heavens, dessert). On Saturday, there was a luncheon for the 'nearest and dearest' at Dowd's Country Inn, a bumpy ride down the road. The luncheon was lovely--beautiful decor, people congregated, and fabulous food. I do not think I would be alone in stating that the entire weekend was also welcoming; people traveled far and wide because this woman was loved--so genuinely--by many people. I wanted to be there to mourn this loss and celebrate her life. The weekend was not overdone. And, also, not a single iota underdone.

After an understandably emotional weekend, Boyfriend and I received a blessing in disguise--our Sunday flight was canceled due to an impending snow storm in Washington, D.C. and the earliest we were able to reschedule for was Tuesday. We made our way to Boston, where we spent the next two days lounging. There was enough food and trashy television and magazines to go around. And we certainly indulged.

These few extra days were healing, easing and already difficult departure.

Note: These pictures were taken on Boyfriend's grandfather's property and are the best I can do at describing my love for this place. His land is dream-like in nature. I could have stayed forever. His house sits on top of this hill overlooking the Connecticut River. The property continues all the way down to the river, with planted corn fields running along the bank. There are also gardens--contents including such luxuries as fiddleheads and rhubarb--decorating the property; they are beautiful in the summer, I'm told. And the house. The house was built using Frank Llyod Wright's blueprints and is backed entirely with windows, skylights litter the ceiling throughout the house as well. It was through this house and property were designed for me.