It was very subtle. I walked past the marker twice. I asked two people. Finally the third pointed it out, and still it took me a minute. Then I saw it – One mile above sea level. I smiled. Maybe it’s the way of all elevation. 

I write daily of the things that have lifted me. Lift me still. Little things my grandpa said — “You can turn in, or you can turn out. It’s up to you.” My grandma — “You’ll figure it out as you go along.”  My mother… there are not enough steps a mile above sea level to show everything that she has etched on my heart. 

As we travel, it’s always the little things that we talk about again and again. The things that we have seen — spectacular!!!! — but truth be told, I don’t recall ever saying, “Remember the Colosseum…”  No, it’s the little things we talk about, as we drive mile after mile through the prairies. Like the moment in Springfield, Illinois… when we went to the wrong library, (in our defense, both named Lincoln). We entered the public library, thinking it was the Presidential Library. It had kids’ cut outs on the wall. The front desk. Books of course. Your typical public library. Both hesitating, Dominique spoke first — “It’s not very Lincolny…”.    I bent over in laughter. He joined me. We haven’t stopped laughing since. It fills many empty miles. Lifts us.

I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again. It’s the little things. Surround yourself with those who see it. Feel it. Those that lift you with words, heart, laughter and action. Be that kind of person. I guarantee you, it will always be a big deal.