It has been nearly a year since I have been home. With that come the gnawing feeling, the ache, the stirred memories, the need to reconnect. I called my mom. Her familiar voice, the familiar stories, and as she talks I see her words come alive in my mind... children's faces, the yard, my childhood home. If only my hands could feel as well as my eyes can visualize.
Later Chelsea called and said, "Mom airline tickets to California are reasonable...we should go for Christmas."
I started writing my blog today and pulled up an old post that I wrote about home, my family. I looked at my nieces and nephews... they were so little. I so want to be there now, and always.
Instead I will cross my fingers.
The post below was written in 2007.
The family gathers, shares stories, enjoys each others company and dives into lunch. A family where the core is the home at the table, where the nourishment is more than the food they eat, and the messages of loyalty and love run deeper than the disagreements or imperfections. A family that doesn't begin nor end with one generation, where the voice that binds is heard from the oldest to the youngest.
A family where the lessons of loving are shown by example and not just in words. Where each link is valuable whether they are big or small.
The role models. The give and the take. The sorting it out. The who, the what and the where. The knowledge that what you do or don't do truly does matter....
That little foot leaning on the back of the chair. Matters.
A family where life continues to continue.... Where everyone does what they can to keep the boat a float: One washes the dishes, another plays with the dish suds, two pair up to dry, while the others clear off the table and put the dishes away.
We each have a role in life and hopefully your family, your roots allow you to celebrate your giftedness...
The one playing in the suds keeps everything going merrily, that is a real gift to have and often overlooked.
The family gathered, shared stories, enjoyed each other's company and parted after lunch. The goodbyes were filled with tears and a soothing knowing that we were here for one another... that as we witnessed the passing of life that we had to keep on living and loving and trusting in the joy of tomorrow.
(This post was written on the day I left to come back to France. It fits my mood today.)