The ground under my feet

Tree and ferns

Last Thursday, I noticed this tree on the side of the trail and wondered how it manages so well with the ground beginning to erode out from under it. It's obviously not all that healthy, from the looks of the moss growing on it, but there are still leaves on the top, out of view of the picture. It reminds me that even mighty trees eventually topple and become fodder. It's the natural path that all living things follow.

Two weeks from today, I'll write my usual Sunday post but then everything will be focused on getting my bags packed and ready for the very early flight on Monday from Seattle. I'll leave here before 2:00am in the morning and will arrive on Norma Jean's couch many hours later. There is a three-hour time difference, as well as a long bus ride and an even longer plane trip. I won't be checking any bags, so packing should be simple and straightforward, but it seems to take me longer to decide what to take when I'm traveling light. Two weeks from today I'll stop focusing on being here and start thinking of Florida.

I've been binge-watching the first season of This Is Us, since I watched the Golden Globes and became curious about it. I have two more episodes before I'm caught up to the present season. It's a tearjerker of a series, with characters who have come alive for me, and I care about what happens to them. I now understand completely why Sterling K. Brown has won so many awards for his portrayal of Randall. The series jumps back and forth in time, from when the triplets were born to the present, with a stop or two during their teenage years. It sounds complicated, but it's really easy to figure out where you are in time. Jack, the father, mysteriously dies and I still don't know how, but I'm sure it will be revealed sooner or later.

The story line reminds me of all the aspects of family life that everyone who has grown up with complicated family relationships must grapple with throughout our lives. In a family like mine, with six siblings and parents who moved constantly during the early years, and then settling down and raising the three youngest in one place, the relationships are varied. Since Norma Jean is nearest to me in birth order, we are close to one another, but I have little contact with my youngest sisters Fia and Markee. They are, however, very close to each other. Twenty years separate me from Fia, the youngest. In many ways, I feel more like an aunt than a sister to the two of them.

In the coming two weeks, I'm hoping I can stay healthy and not catch the bugs that are everywhere. So many of my friends have gotten sick with either a cold or the awful flu that is going around. I'm also hoping that the weather cooperates and I don't end up having my plans upended because of that. Florida has had several cold snaps lately, so I'm hoping it will be over and calm by early February. I am looking forward to swimming with my sister in the outdoor pool at her local Y. She has been swimming a mile every weekday morning for years now, and if I manage to swim a third of that, I'm happy. It's become a tradition for me to visit her in the winter.

Traditions. That TV show reminds me of how family traditions develop. In it, they have a terrible Thanksgiving one year, when they are on the road to visit her family, but the car breaks down and they end up in a seedy hotel. The five of them make the best of a bad situation, and you see that years later, they still carry out traditions that began then: with only hot dogs to eat covered with saltines that were roasted over the malfunctioning heater, every year after that a dish made of the same ingredients was served at Thanksgiving. I found that a very touching reminder of how these disasters can become delightful reminders of times gone by and be transformed into happy memories.

There is plenty of loss to deal with, and everyone must find his or her own way to move forward after life's inevitable setbacks. It reminds me of how much of my own losses have become part of my past and still color the present day. My sons are both gone, but they are still a part of me and remind me that I will always be a mother. If my life had played out differently, I'd have plenty of grandchildren by now. I read about the joy they bring to my blogging friends, and I rejoice in studying their beautiful faces and am incredibly glad that I can enjoy them too.

There was a time in my early twenties when I was unable to be around small children because the grief that was triggered was too much for me to handle. It lasted for many years, but it finally passed. Even the most difficult loss will eventually evolve into something else. Some people become bitter and allow life's inevitable changes to make them try not to care so much. But the way we deal with it can open us to a greater understanding of life. Anne Lamott says it so much better than I ever could:

You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.

 Yes, exactly. I realized just now, in writing this post, that I have allowed myself to love completely over and over again, not worrying about whether that person (or animal, or tradition) will continue in my life. There are, of course, dear loved ones that would cause me great distress to lose, but after so many decades of life, of love, of loss, a sense of completion of this wonderful journey I've been on begins to take shape. I've experienced it all and if I died today, there would be little or nothing I would wish I'd decided differently. Even all the turmoil of my early years has faded into gentle memories of sorrow and joy, intermingled.

And now, today, I wake with anticipation and gratitude for another day to live and play in the world. None of us made a decision to be born, that was made for us, but we are all on the journey between that event and our final day. Some people call it "living the dash" (the time between our birth and death). That part we don't have any choice about, but how we live each day is ours to make each time we open our eyes to a new beginning.

My partner is still sleeping, lightly this morning, and the sun will soon rise and will also begin another circuit around the earth. It feels pretty good from here, today, this moment. I am hoping that your day will bring you all good things, and that you will choose to add some kindness to the world around you. That is available to every single one of us. Be well until we meet again, dear ones.