Big Sky

My parents have had the same best friends since I was about three. Over the years, they've become more like an aunt and an uncle - in fact, that's what I call them - and their kids are my cousins. My uncle's parents were like another set of grandparents to me, growing up.

When I was six, I went on vacation with their family and my uncle's parents. During the trip, I called a summit with the grandparents. I sat across the dinner table from them and very solemnly asked them if they would mind if I called them their "grandparent" names - Mimi and Papa. They graciously accepted.

Mimi passed away in 2004, and Papa passed away overnight last night. Much like my grandparents whom I've mentioned here many times, they had a great love story. As such, Papa was never really the same after he lost Mimi, so as sad as I am to have officially said goodbye to a man I adored, I'm glad he is reunited with his great love. The title of the post is a nod to the fact that they grew up in Montana, so my aunt said this morning that Papa had returned to Big Sky Country.

It felt only right to pay a small tribute to my "other grandparents" here. They had one of the most unfailingly welcoming homes I ever had the privilege of visiting, and I will never forget that.