Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Have had so many lonely moments recently thinking about the holidays now that your cousin Erin is dead, too. I have felt so far from she and her sister for so long, and yet, my heart knew I was making my own family on the other coast. I felt a trust and love for the family I left back on the East coast, knowing that they raised me with love and care, feeling they would all do the same for Erin and her sister, too. I felt freedom enough to be on the left coast and make my family now. But my family here doesn't look like I thought it would.
It's not that I don't feel the two of you here. I do feel you like holiday sprites buzzing around me, trying to tickle me out of my reluctant spaces -- much as I might be doing for you if you were here as a reluctant teenager, Kota :) But at the same time, well, you just are not *here* either. This house doesn't feel or sound or look anything like what I thought it would. And, yes, it's true, I practice just letting all that go so that I can be present in what IS the house now. It's a fine enough house. I'm grateful for the roof, meditation space, art-making space, time and light. But I admit that when I get a peak into your sister's house with her three young kids making the very structure brim over with growth, I ache for all that we missed with you.
And I just miss you. Period.
And I find myself this year thinking about all the spaces back home that will not be the same now that Erin has died, too. The world is so full and yet there are so many spaces that ache under the weight of empty.
Sending you love -- and wishing you were here to discover oranges in your stockings and roll your eyes in teen fashion and say, "Mooooom, this is *not* a gift," which would allow a whole other discussion to ensue. :)
Love you, babies.