The holidays are, expectedly, a bit strange this Pandemic year.
In lieu of the annual family get-together, we drove around on Christmas eve and dropped things off for people, chatting only briefly, masked, outside on the porches. It was mostly fine, and fairly brief, and it was a welcome break from social gatherings.
The hard parts:
1. Knowing it was not safe to hug my daughter, because she is in her own household and regularly encounters the imported medical personnel who are here in our city to help with the Pandemic. That realization was an unexpectedly difficult pang, and I still ache. Stay safe and well, Offspring the First. My heart is with you, from six feet away.
2. My lovely mother-in-law sending a text to me, to ask whether Cherished Friend would be coming "Home" to this desert land for Christmas. She is so kind, keeping him in her prayers and considering him a member of the family. I'm grateful. Alas, no, I told her, he would not be here for the holidays since it is not safe to travel between Here and There because Pandemic.
I didn't have the heart to tell her that I suspect that the times he will be out in this desert land will be few and far between henceforth. (It might still be too hard for me to admit it to anyone except myself.)
Paths have diverged. Cherished Friend is Oceanside, and it is the right place for him. It may, eventually, become Home for him, unlike this desert land which never was truly Home.
I hope for the best for him, Always.
Home isn't where you're from, it's where you find light when all grows dark. ― Pierce Brown, Golden Son
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