Les Bois, part deux

**Yes, I'm a week behind** Read part 1 before attempting this piece...

Friday morning quickly turned into Saturday morning as the drinks went from a couple to much more than that, and as we made our way out of the final bar back to the car, my brother and his girlfriend made stop after stop on the street to talk with group after group of friends. I remember a time when I lived in that city, where I knew everyone. I couldn't go anywhere without running into someone I knew from high school or college or my life following those two points in time. I had that city wired and at the time it seemed a little annoying, never a time where I could just blend into the shadows of the summer night sky, and this time, I actually missed it a little bit. Just a little bit, not enough to lose sleep over it, but enough that I spent a few seconds writing about it. Out of one of the many groups of friends we passed through, we picked up an additional passenger, and oh boy was this one having a good time being who she was! I don't think I've ever heard a girl laugh as loud as this one did and she was entertaining to say the least, and getting her back to my brothers place couldn't happen fast enough for the safety of everyone else driving through West Boise at 2:30 in the morning. I dropped the kids off at my brothers truck, got back to my parents place, popped in on my sleeping monkey oblivious to the fact that his daddy had been out all night with good friends and would be waking up in just under 4 hours to take him to a photo shoot.

6:30 am came much quicker than I would have liked, but that's pretty much how it works when you say you'll be in bed by 11:30 and hit the pillow after 2:45. Despite the lack of sleep, we were up and out of the house by 7:30 and on our way to meet Kam for some outdoor, perfect lighting, picture taking with Jackson and I. Kam shot his baby photo's when he was about 3 months old in her home studio and this being a pretty major transitional period for him because of where Jamie and I are in our lives apart, I figured what better time to have some father-son pictures taken by one of my favorite local photographers in an outdoor setting. Jackson thought otherwise, as setup after setup, he wanted nothing to do with cooperating. If only toddlers understood money and what these types of things cost, they might appreciate it more. We worked like crazy to get him stoked about the situation, squeezing rubber chickens that made a sound that I imagine mimic a dying cow, tossed colored balls around to no avail, and even brought in his cousin Chloe for a few shots. It was all for not, he didn't care what we wanted to do, he wasn't doing anything he didn't want to do. In a weird way, despite how frustrated I felt, I was a little proud of him for sticking to his guns. If there's any trait that both his mother and I posses, it's that we are very stubborn and strong in our convictions, even if it is the difference between a good picture or wasted cash. Kam seems to think we got some great, albeit amazing, shots and I am so looking forward to seeing the fruits of the labor we performed with the dying chicken.

We all headed to breakfast from there at the world famous Ihop; my sister, mom, niece, Jackson and I. I don't think any of us particularly care for a single menu item, but it's almost become a tradition when I come into town, and it's very easy with toddlers (My dad might be the exception, he loves the "Rooty Tooty fresh and fruity". Still not sure what that all consists of but he always orders it). We did the breakfast thing and headed home to my folks place where I participated in a very long, much needed nap. I never get to nap anymore, but I always find time when I'm in Boise. Got up around 3 and took Jackson down to Black Cat Tattoo to see Sean and the guys, made a coffee run and headed out to Eagle.

I hadn't introduced Jackson to my grandmother, it had never been the right time or even a time when we had the time to visit. I hadn't been out there for more than a year and this time it just felt like it was something I needed to do. My grandmother is buried at Dry Creek Cemetery, set a top the Boise foothills overlooking Eagle and the valley on the old highway headed to Horseshoe Bend. It's a beautiful place, lots of trees and grass, well maintained. There's yet to be a time that I've driven onto that property where a giant lump doesn't begin to build up in my throat, and the damn holding back the tears doesn't spring a leak. Even as I write this, this morning, I feel the same physical effects. This visit wasn't any different, in fact, it was even harder than any time before to hold back the inevitable. Having my son present to see who helped make me the man I am today was really important to me, and although I know he has zero concept of where he was or what it meant to be in that place, I felt like it was something I needed to do. I could hear her laugh and see the pride in her face had she been standing there looking at him. I saw those smiles as a child every time she was near and heard those laughs as we played. I could feel that hug that only my grandma had, and I knew how much she would have loved him. For a moment, I could feel her there, looking down on me and Jackson and wanting to wipe away my tears as I spoke to her and explained to him who she was, and still is, in my life. It was a very hard thing for me to sit there in the grass with him in my lap talking to her and watching his hand brush away the fallen tree leaves and grass clippings on her headstone. Like I've said before, a day doesn't go by that she isn't present in my head and my heart, and now she's felt the touch of my son and I know how truly happy and proud she is.

OK, water works done for now. Chilled out at the folks place and watched some tele with the famdamily, ate some dinner (AWESOME lasagna straight from Costco, the BEST) and waited for my Dad to get home from work. I'd been in town almost 36+ hours at this point and still hadn't seen him. We hung for a little bit, my kid brother and his lady friend arrived and the 3 of us headed out for another night on the Boise Bar wagon. Now, unless you've drank (or drunk, depending on where you were drinking) in Boise, you really won't care about most of the bar names, but if you need a referral of places to visit, I'm your man. We started out at my old hang and met up with some very young old friends that I hadn't seen in almost 13 years, and it was awesome! I love having friends that no matter what happens in life, no matter how much things can change, you always pick up right where you left off, and this was no different. We continued from bar to bar to bar to bar, drink after drink and laugh after laugh and had a killer time. You could say we 'killed it' until long past last call, and although it was sad to have the night come to an end, the lives we've all shared throughout the years will continue to play in the sandbox together, and hopefully without a 13 year pause in between play dates.

The night out turned into morning much earlier than I wanted it to, but a crying toddler in the next room will do that to a guy. I brought Jackson into bed with me and a cup of milk and we snuggled as long as we possibly could. I NEEDED the extra 30 minutes, and from there the party began. 20 family members, a giant cake and some pulled pork and presents rounded out our final day in Boise at the folks place. My mom threw the kid an early birthday party with the whole family and boy did he make out. We actually had to take a second suitcase home with us and still didn't get everything back. He's pretty stoked on all the new toys and I'm stoked on all the new clothes. If he only knew that he's the best dressed kid in his daycare.

We were back at the airport by 6 pm, excited for another easy flight home and get back to the normal day to day, at least I was. I think Jackson had so much fun with his Nana and Papa and cousin Chloe, that he would gladly have stayed another week, as would I if I could be 2 years old again without a care in the world. Since that's not happening in my lifetime, I'm totally down to visit my home away from home a few days a year and reconnect with my old life and introduce it to my new one. Boise will always feel like an old pair of socks, that comfortable cotton that have walked a million miles with me and know me better than that new pair that hold on just a little snug and need time to expand and conform to me. There's nothing wrong with the new pair, as long as they get along with the old ones and someday can be worn as a mismatched pair.

I know I'm now a week behind on this little ditty and I'm gonna try like hell to get caught up. Especially since in the last week there has been so much change and chaos and just pure random awesomeness that I need to write about, or at least what I can write about. I'm all about protecting the innocent

Stay Blessed-