My sister will arrive on the 12:17 train, and then we will come back here and really hang out for the first time in several months. Her first semester away from home provided her with all kinds of experiences, and I need to catch up with the person she is becoming as much as I need to stay connected to the person she is.

I've decided what I'm getting G for his birthday (next Saturday). This was no small feat, believe me. I had to take several things into consideration: cost, his interest/desire in potential present, appropriateness of any ideas I had in light of our friendship, etc. For a while I thought I was going to have to go the somewhat pedantic route of the giftcard (now I love getting gift cards, but sometimes they can seem impersonal, and the person to whom you give it/them knows exactly how much you spent--which might make them feel bad/uncomfortable if it's a decent amount). I consulted a few girlfriends for ideas, but ultimately I just prayed about it.

As a meeting I attended yesterday at work was wrapping up, I got it! It was as clear as day, and I knew it was from God, who very awesomely reminded me of something G has been wanting for a couple of years now--that he's told me about in passing. Remembering it yesterday made me feel genuinely excited about giving it to him, excited just thinking about how happy it will make him, and unconflicted about it being too impersonal or too personal/extravagant.

I have a memory of standing on the stairs of the old Methodist church (with red doors) in the heart of Mount Vernon, four years ago, waiting for Gordon. He was meeting Victoria and I at the Charles Street book fair, but he was late, so she went to call him. This meant I had to wait on the stairs, and so got the privelege of watching him amble toward the meeting place wearing a brown fedora, simple trousers, and an unremarkable shirt. It was a foggy day, and he cut such a classic 1940s figure walking through the mist.

A couple of years after that, some dog in Tennessee mangled his fedora, and he's been lamenting the loss ever since. Whenever he mentions it, he looks so forlorn. So that's what I'm going to buy him.