The train has arrived at the station, my friends. Please be sure to read the author's note at the end before departing.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. But I do own a lot of love for Pa and Gran and their family...and for you.
There is a soft breeze blowing through the trees in the yard. The melodic twinkling sound of my windchimes and the steady rhythm of the rocking chair on the polished wood of the porch, make the perfect lullaby for the sleeping baby in my arms. Bundled in his monogrammed blanket and matching blue sleep set, he is a perfect little angel...my perfect little angel.
Moments like these are what happiness is made of.
Elliott Anthony Cavanaugh was born three months ago on a rainy day in Seattle. He is the spitting image of his father, but I can already tell that his personality will be all his mom's. We knew he was a boy before he was born. Being a doctor, my granddaughter wanted every test and scan imaginable done, including one of those fancy 3-D images of my great-grandchild. After all of my years in the medical field, it amazed me that I could see what a baby looks like before he is born.
My husband kept saying that it didn't matter what the baby was, as long as it was healthy. But that didn't stop him from buying out the Mariners infant collection once we received the news. I know he is counting the days until he can give him the baseball glove that is currently sitting in a box in the top of our closet.
Any minute now, I expect the driveway to fill up with cars as the rest of my family returns from their daily activities. I volunteered to stay home and babysit while the boys fish and the girls shop. They invited me, but who wants to spend time buying things I don't need when I can be doing exactly what I'm doing right now? Plus, Lizzie-b could use some grown up time with her mom and I was happy to help.
The warm bundle begins to squirm in his sleep - most likely dreaming about his first game of catch with his great-grandpa. I will have to take him back upstairs to finish his nap before the masses arrive, and I have to finish the pie I am taking to the fish fry out at the Blacks' house tonight, but I want just a few more minutes of bonding time with this little one. I smooth the silky hair on his head and continue rocking - humming a song I used to sing to his mother and grandmother.
I carefully take Elliott upstairs to place him in the cradle my Edward made for him. My gait is slower these days, allowing me opportunity to take a sentimental journey through the memories that line the wall:
Lizzie and I in matching white lab coats.
Jacob and Ness on an anniversary cruise.
Edward holding Elliott in the hospital on the day that he was born.
Lizzie and Noah on their wedding day.
Edward teaching Ness how to ride a bike.
A family portrait on the beach.
In the center of them all is the photograph that I have come to cherish more than any of them. It's the one of a young soldier with his arms wrapped around the woman he loves on the day she graduated from nursing school - completely unaware of the struggle they were about to face. But face it, they did. And it made them who they are today.
It led to all of this.
The good Lord must have figured He had given us enough of a test during the war, because when we returned home, we never had to face one like it again.
As I place my beautiful great-grandson in the cradle, I hear the first of the cars turn into the yard. There are many more good times to be had and memories to make. So, with one more glance at my sleeping angel, I close the door and head downstairs to join the rest of my family.
Gonna take a sentimental journey
Gonna set my heart at ease
Gonna make a sentimental journey
To renew old memories
Got my bag, got my reservation
Spent each dime I could afford
Like a child in wild anticipation
Long to hear that "All aboard!"
Seven - that's the time we leave, at seven
I'll be waitin' up for heaven
Countin' every mile of railroad track
That takes me back
Never thought my heart could be so yearny
Why did I decide to roam?
Gotta take that sentimental journey
Sentimental journey home
The seed for this story was planted on a drive to the real Forks, with two wonderful friends. Since then it has grown into something that I am very proud of. I want to thank each and every person who read, reviewed, tweeted and helped spread the word about this story. So many reviews brought me to tears and I am honored that you shared your own family memories with me.
There are a few people in particular that deserve a huge amount of thanks: lemonmartinis; MoltenChocCake; abstractway; twilightus; ffpassion; L51R; jaimearkin; aftrnoondlight1; allyinperth and les_sh_16. Whether through fabulous beta work, help with research, tweeting every update and blog post, or simply holding my head up when it was down, these wonderful friends played a huge part in this story.
I also want to thank TwilightAwards, TweetaFic, WaywardPushers, AvantGardeAwards and KatHat4 for helping to promote SJ and supporting all authors in this fandom.
Last, but certainly not least...thank you to Tkegl for the gorgeous banner and group photo manip. I absolutely love them.
Once again, thank YOU for taking this Sentimental Journey with me!
Sentimental Journey music by Les Brown and Ben Homer; lyrics by Aurthur Green.
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