A. I'm pretty sure no one reads this blog anymore, but that's ok.
B. They all said that the trip to Italy would be a life-changing trip for us. Susan asked me afterwards if my life had changed. Well, not especially. What did change is our relationship. For the last 6 years, there has been a barricade between us. The sisters and aunts and I have fell together into a comfortable relationship - not as close as any of us would like, but comfortable. Susan and I, however, dance around one another trying to figure out what it means to be a mother and a daughter. This trip allowed us to see each other without the distractions of the rest of the family. It allowed us to be strong and weak, alternating roles. It allowed us to fuss and make up, to explore our boundaries. This one week of my life changed this fundamental relationship fundamentally.
C. My favorite joke is that God decided when I was coming to earth that I would need a lot of mommies and he sent me several to serve in that role. One of them ... is struggling. Cancer has reared it's ugly head and is overcoming her body. Last night, I got the call she may have less than a month. I haven't seen her in months, spoken to her, none of the above. I knew she'd get better. We were praying, we serve a God of miracles, right? But, here again, the miracles haven't come. The miracle will not be seen in a phenomenal healing, but in the small bits of growth and salvation that God is infusing in her family. It inspires sobs of grief. I hauled 80 gallons of water last night meanwhile sobbing under the bright stars. Why her? Her daughters love her, need her, speak to her daily. Her son is so young and needs his mother, especially as his father can't love him as he needs. She has 6 grandchildren and only one or two will even remember her. Her sister, her brother, her parents, she has been their rock - the center of the family occasions. Her husband loves her and will be broken without her. So, why is God taking her? Why? I'm angry, i don't understand. I cannot rationalize this. There is no logical explanation, only that bitter ache that is becoming all too familiar. I celebrated my 30th birthday instead of attending the funeral of my uncle who committed suicide. I celebrated my 30th birthday instead of visiting the woman who held me through so many teenage crises on her deathbed. Within the last year, 2 of my friends parents have died. With the foreboding death of another, I cannot help but think I am too young to deal with the death of parents. The death of grandparents has not concluded yet. We've already moved onto parents? No. There was supposed to be a break of birth of babies in the middle here.
D. The thing about Italy that moved me was that it was not historically clean. We couldn't move from the town of the 800's AD to the town of the 100 B.C. to the town of 1200 AD to the Piazza of 1800 AD to the town that exemplified modern days. No. It is all lumped together; stacked upon itself; built by robbing the great grandfather to build the great grandson. WE walk from cobblestones from 400 years ago into a temple built 1000 years ago but co-opted 600 years ago. A highway goes through Nero's baths. The yellow taxi taking me to the airport picked me up next to the Coliseum. Life is not clean and tidy. It is lumped upon itself. Grandparents die and babies are born, even conceived. Mom gets sick will daughter becomes pregnant and Grandma lives her 90th year healthier than both of them. Life is not logical. God's logic is not man's logic.
E. My uncle prepared my aunt for his departure. He then prepared his affairs for his final departure. What resolve! To conscientiously prepare your family for your sin..... thoughtful, yet bastardly. I cannot make sense of it.
F. My friendships have changed. I cannot understand why; I can't process how; but, my best friends no longer call me to go out with them; they no longer show up to my birthday parties; i no longer buy beautiful gifts for them and their children. We have become tired, lacking the energy to be intentional in our relationships. It wasn't ever supposed to be like this. Yet, here we are.
I miss discovering new music. I miss reading novels and loving them. I miss the awe of discovery. I miss the beauty of a pause in a sunset. Days past 30 and I feel middle-aged and disappointed that I fell into the rut.
G. My grandpa told me Life is like a buffet. I think I've hit the meat... or maybe the side dishes- the taters.
