Yesterday, to celebrate my
birthday at the end of July , my kids and their partners came up for the day,
and we brought them out on a little local ferry ride from the next town over,
that chugs up the river nearer our house, and then back on down again.
So we all stood out on the deck, and the brash wind blew and the hot humid air bypassed us as we watched the land move by, rocking upon waves made by passing boats, lulling us in our family lore.
It was quiet and no words needed and I felt my whole family being then woven together by wind and water and the commonality of a small sweet experience.
Sometimes after the struggles of raising children, and them finding their own ways as their own enigmatic selves, there are so many surprises and woundings and misunderstandings, and then the frosting on the cake sometimes is one huge diagnosis that has this capacity to throw you , en familie, to the wolves.
Which means some small quiet moments need to happen for them to test out their fears and greatest worries and watch time pass and trust they can find ease once again.
I think one of the most vital qualities I value in others is the slow dawning realization, that comes only with a requisite maturity, that leads people to realize they do not have it worse than others.
That normal life is quite the tough deal and you will never ever know just how unrelentingly tough another's life has been unless you ask and listen well and even then it's a stretch.
After the boat ride we returned home and enthusiastically consumed tacos and corn on the cob from down the street, and of course one of them climbed into the dark Morass Room, and retrieved one of many haphazard boxes of family photos, so they could sit around poring over them and tell stories and exclaim things and hand them around as if Crown Jewels from some crown.
Later, they walked about the herb garden in the stultifying heat, and picked and loaded produce from the garden into bags to take on home.
And afterward my beloved and I smiled at how many disasters and messes and conflicts in families can all be rewoven again.
So we all stood out on the deck, and the brash wind blew and the hot humid air bypassed us as we watched the land move by, rocking upon waves made by passing boats, lulling us in our family lore.
It was quiet and no words needed and I felt my whole family being then woven together by wind and water and the commonality of a small sweet experience.
Sometimes after the struggles of raising children, and them finding their own ways as their own enigmatic selves, there are so many surprises and woundings and misunderstandings, and then the frosting on the cake sometimes is one huge diagnosis that has this capacity to throw you , en familie, to the wolves.
Which means some small quiet moments need to happen for them to test out their fears and greatest worries and watch time pass and trust they can find ease once again.
I think one of the most vital qualities I value in others is the slow dawning realization, that comes only with a requisite maturity, that leads people to realize they do not have it worse than others.
That normal life is quite the tough deal and you will never ever know just how unrelentingly tough another's life has been unless you ask and listen well and even then it's a stretch.
After the boat ride we returned home and enthusiastically consumed tacos and corn on the cob from down the street, and of course one of them climbed into the dark Morass Room, and retrieved one of many haphazard boxes of family photos, so they could sit around poring over them and tell stories and exclaim things and hand them around as if Crown Jewels from some crown.
Later, they walked about the herb garden in the stultifying heat, and picked and loaded produce from the garden into bags to take on home.
And afterward my beloved and I smiled at how many disasters and messes and conflicts in families can all be rewoven again.
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