Distance

Beautiful Sister resides so far away.

Brave Brother plans his move to another country.

Lovely Offspring the First packs to leave for college.

She awaits news regarding Cherished Friend's possible relocation.

In the long hours Beloved Husband spends at work, she hears echoes of the three years before they were married that she and he were hundreds of miles apart.

Sometimes, she suspects that she may have been destined to spend much of her life at a distance from those whom she cares about the most.

Nevertheless, in the words of Hans Nouwen regarding love: 
...the smallest distance is too great, and the greatest distance can be bridged.

Gifts

Herself hates presents.

Well, let's clarify. 

Herself loves to give people presents.  Few things make her happier than an opportunity to bestow a gift upon someone.  She gives careful thought when selecting a present, contemplating the individual and trying hard to imagine what he or she would like.  Even when she is out conducting ordinary shopping, she keeps her eyes and mind open for potential gifts, just in case she spots an item that reminds her of one of the people of whom she is fond.

On the other hand, Herself is extremely uncomfortable accepting presents. She always has a vague suspicion that she does not, in fact, actually deserve any kind of gifts. Even more, though, she is unsettled by the thought that another person has spent time selecting a present specifically for her. 

Herself works very hard not to ask things of other people; she fervently wishes not to be a bother or an inconvenience, ever, to anyone.  (This is, in fact, one of the main reasons why she dislikes the telephone so much:  she is horrified at the thought that she might call at an inopportune moment and interrupt or irritate the person whom she is calling.)  A gift is directly contrary to her efforts to be as unobtrusive as possible - for it means that another person has gone through the trouble of imagining, choosing and offering the gift to her.  To accept a present is to acknowledge that she is visible, and the heat of such a spotlight, however small, is almost unbearable. Who is she to warrant such attention?  She is not worthy.

Thank you, gift givers. You make Herself feel valued.

Meltdown

The situation was clear to Herself instantly.

She, her Beloved, and the Offspring were in the interminable line for check-in at the airport on Sunday.  The line moved slowly but consistently, and the travelers were generally in relatively good humor despite the crowds.  There were many small children scuttling about, shepherded between the line and other areas by attentive relatives attempting to keep them entertained during the wait.

It was the unique timbre of the noise that immediately drew Herself's attention.  It was a primal shout of anger and frustration; an overwhelmed and overtired sobbing.  She looked, and what she saw verified her suspicions:  a barefoot child, much older than one would expect for such a wordless anguished cry, writhing in tantrum upon the floor as his parents attempted to soothe him.

She knew. Autism.

She recalled the days when Offspring the Third was small and not yet diagnosed with Aspergers, and he would melt down in such a manner.  The distress of publicly attempting to calm such an enraged and overwhelmed child was enormous; the virulent glances from passers-by silently issued criticism of Herself for not being able to control her child.  She learned quickly to ignore others and focus on Offspring the Third's needs.  She hardened her soul to outsiders who would judge without understanding.  At the same time, that visceral desire to protect Offspring the Third allowed her to maintain a tender spot in her heart for those who similarly suffered.
 
The patient and fatigued parents eventually pacified the overwrought child, and joined the line behind Herself.  Herself smiled at them and quietly told the parents, "I have one who used to melt down the same way."  They muttered, "He has autism."  Herself acknowledged:  "Ours has Aspergers."  A tenuous bond of understanding was born.  They made a bit more small talk.  Herself did her very best to look them kindly in the eye and to convey as much compassion as she could in the few words they exchanged. As they parted to their respective check-in spots, Herself wished them the best of luck on their trip and told them that if they needed anything while in the airport, they shouldn't hesitate to ask her.

She hopes she helped them, even if just a tiny bit. 

She hopes, too, that their path becomes easier.  Perhaps someday, they will be standing peacefully in line at a different airport, marveling at how far their child has come, just as Herself does now when she looks at Offspring the Third.  "Remember when?" they will say to one another, and they will breathe a quiet sigh of relief and gratitude and love.

I hope so.

*Picture copyright Mediocria Firma, used with gratitude.

44

Herself turned 44 today.

She has never been one for a great deal of birthday fanfare.  It was a regular sort of morning, involving the typical work-related e-mails and much rummaging in the giant post-travel laundry heap.  She had a lovely lunch with her Pea-in-a-pod Friend and was quite pleased to have the opportunity to catch up with her and discuss matters close to their hearts.  She spent the late afternoon happily preparing a cake from scratch, complete with homemade caramel icing.  She set aside a piece for her Pea-in-a-pod Friend and delivered some cake to her Cherished Friend.  She enjoyed a dinner prepared by her Beloved, and provided cake to him and the Offspring as well.  It was good.

This evening, Herself and I revisited a blog entry from last year relating to her birthday.  She and I together marvel at how far she has come since then.  She has worked through so many difficulties and has at last found her footing; she understands where she is and where she has been; she knows herself.  Perhaps this coming year, she will look forward and be finally able to divine a fragment of what lies ahead. We shall see.

Tonight, she is content, and grateful for those whom she loves. They make each turning of another year worthwhile.  Cake for you, my favorite people.

Sister

We have just returned from Herself's family reunion, and are quite happy to be able to resume composing entries for the blog.  We have many things about which to write; where to begin?  Let us start with Herself's beloved Sister, whom Herself saw for the first time in over three years at the reunion.

Although her Sister is a few years younger than she, Herself has at times felt as though she has grown up in her Sister's shadow.  When they were young, Herself's schoolmates would frequently remark about Sister's noteworthiness:  "Your sister is so cute." "Your sister is just beautiful." "Your sister is adorable." "Your sister has the most beautiful hair."  All correct.  Even so, now as then, Sister's golden hair and her bright blue eyes framed by those impossibly thick lashes are but the smallest of her many shining qualities. 

Sister has a remarkable ability to attract people to her.  Sister makes friends easily and has a wide circle of acquaintances.  When Sister and Herself were teenagers, boys flocked about Sister, bestowing gifts upon her.  Sister was asked out on her first date before Herself was asked out on her own.  No matter where they went -- be it a different city or even a different country -- it always seemed as though they would run into one of Sister's many friends and admirers. 

Sister sings gloriously.  She is athletic -- incredibly trim and fit -- and admirably disciplined in her exercise and healthy eating regimens. She is intelligent, humorous, witty.  She is beautifully organized. She is kind and thoughtful. She is a superb and extraordinarily patient mother. She is a wonderful friend.

Sister is everything that Herself would like to be.

When thinking about Sister, Herself feels the same way she did as a child: homely, awkward, inadequate, painfully aware of her own limitations.  One might think that Herself would resent Sister for being so extraordinary, when she Herself is so very ordinary.  Yet, it is impossible to do so, for Sister's radiance shines upon everyone in her presence.  To know Sister is to feel better about oneself:  Sister inspires, brings hope, makes one feel loved. 

And more.  Because they grew up together, Sister has a unique comprehension of all of the metaphorical baggage that Herself carries with her.  Herself need not explain so many of her own eccentricities and failings, for Sister knows their roots. She understands. 

Now that Herself is home again, she is painfully heartbroken  - for she has been reminded once more of the cruelty of a Universe that allows her only such rare and short visits with her Sister.  Yet even those crumbs of time together are tremendous, for they bring a tranquility that is of inestimable value.  Herself will hold on to those moments for as long as she can.

This is the kind of Friend
You are -
Without making me realize
My soul's anguished history,
You slip into my house at night,
And while I am sleeping,
You silently carry off
All my suffering and sordid past
In Your beautiful
Hands.
- Hafiz

Hello!

Please forgive the quiet. We are traveling and access to internet is scarce. We are thinking of you, my treasured readers.

Stuck

A zillion things to do.  Where to begin?

Herself, her Beloved and the Offspring will shortly be making a trip out of state for a family function.  She has consciously avoided thinking about the preparations. I am sure she will be happy to see various family members once they arrive, but the complexity of preparing and executing the trip is quite daunting.  Ends must be tidied up at work; the house must be cleaned; the laundry and the packing must be done; care for the pets must be arranged; bills must be paid; and so forth. Are there enough suitcases? Does everyone have garments appropriate for all of the occasions of the trip?  So many little details.

Herself is further stymied because her brain is occupied with forthcoming changes.  Offspring the First will be leaving for college in mere weeks.  An adjustment from the summer schedule must also be made as Offspring the Second and the Third will shortly begin the new school year.  Herself also waits patiently for news regarding a close friend's possible relocation.  How can Herself accomplish anything right now?  She cannot.  She is such a creature of habit -- all these changes, whether temporary or more permanent, whether large or relatively minor, are tricky.  She is simultaneously unsettled and rendered immobile by the uncertainties. 

How to unstick Herself?  She will start small - one minor task, and hopefully the rest will be like dominoes, falling into place one after another.