I was one of those kids that grew up in a small town. So small that it wasn't on a map until I was in high school. So small that it only had 3 stoplights. So small that you could dial your friends house using only 5 digits. So small that if the old lady at the grocery store didn't know you, chances were they knew your parents or played Bridge with your Grandma.
Yeah, THAT small.
If you would have asked me when I was younger, I would have told you that I hated that town and everything it stood for. I hated the cliques that formed in junior high. I hated that the neighbor kids knew all the good hiding places when we'd play "Rabbit" after dark. It infuriated me that my mom would know of my mischief before I even walked in the door from creating it. I resented the rumor mill that ran constantly somewhere in the heart of the town like an fire hydrant being flushed in the summertime.
But when you go through a tragedy, your jaded perspective seems to shift the other direction. The two guys you'd least expect to see, knock on your door just to sit with you. People show up with meat trays and casseroles. Letters are sent and cards pour from your mailbox. The things that you used to loathe about that tiny, little, farming town become minuscule and better, brighter things take focus.
Things like Vic -- the bubbly, stout, old man at the grocery store that bagged groceries for your mom. Or the dime store with a smorgasbord of penny candy. Or the smell of hot dogs on a Friday night coming from the football field. Or the sight of the really big maple trees that get deep, burgandy, red in the fall.
The "things" start to take less meaning and the people become more important. You slowly begin to realize that those people have molded you to who you are. They shared part of your history. They helped create memories....the same memories that you can remember when you're old with children of your own.
Amy does that for me. And it wasn't just her. It was her 4 other siblings and her mom and dad. I used to baby sit for the Montgomery family. It was the first real "job" I had the summer after I turned 13. And I was completely clueless, I might add.
Amy's mom worked in the school cafeteria so their freezer was always stocked with these awesome personal-sized pepperoni and taco pizzas -- which made feeding 5 kids a breeze. I never understood how she did it -- raising 5 kids, working full-time, being a wife. I remember looking up to her thinking she wore that really cool Wonder Woman tiara when noone was around. Everyone knew who Paula was and you never saw her without a smile. Ever.
Paula was married to John who, in my mind, was the most handsome lumberjack you ever saw. Only we didn't live even remotely close to thick, wooded, areas and he wasn't a lumberjack. But, he did have a tree service business that (if I remember right) was passed down to him from his dad. They lived on one of the main streets in our town and one year he lined it with trees.
Those Montgomery kids were a blast to watch. The most disgusting diaper I ever changed was their youngest, AJ's. (And I can say that it's the most disgusting diaper ever even after changing my own kids' diapers for all those years.) I have no idea what that child ate that day, but whatever it was nearly made me puke. Sara Beth and Katie were incredibly sweet girls that loved to do my hair. I lost Peter one time playing hide and seek. Turned out he was just mad that Amy found him first and was hiding so he could throw a fit. And Amy....she was just so sweet and loving. She was the oldest and never complained about anything. Except when I burnt the pizza once. Ok, twice.
It's funny to look back on the people who have come in and out of your life and see how they effected you. For some it was something they said -- some encouraging words of advice that pulled you thru a trying time -- and for others it's something they did.
Amy's husband, Brent, and I did a creative swap. He has
this incredible design business and when I needed a logo for part of my packaging, he delievered. So, to make even on the deal, I did their family photos.
And now Amy, with her five kids and absolutely darling family, has turned into a Wonder Woman of her own.
There is just something about a twins' bond that facinates me. Lovelovelovelovelove this!!! 
The interactions between mothers and their babies make me swoon. And just look at how proud that dad is!! That is raw emotion. And it's absolutely beautiful. (Kate, we need to make this one a canvas. K?)
