It seems such a long time ago when I began this blog wondering how I would go about explaining the difference between between strategy and tactics to a kid as well as trying to define success (first post). Now we are a family of five, and 100 posts later I am still trying to come up with truths, better ways to think, new approaches for problems, and most importantly better ways to express what I experience.
Last week, we went to my grandmother in laws 95thbirthday celebration with family attending from as far away as Germany and Washington State. It was a chance to see my kids interact with their cousins and to learn from them how other kids and families approach life differently. It was also a chance for them to see how they fit into our family. The picture above is one of my favorites because it is A in a dress worn by her older cousin in the picture to our wedding 8 years ago. It was great to see her looking so beautiful with her great grandmother at the party. On the funny side, K crawled around the party and had some of the more blind elderly thinking she was a dog as they tripped over her. It wasn’t till we picked her up, that they realized she was a little, very fast girl. O spent the entire week with his cousins, but I think the parts he liked most involved sitting up in bed with them late playing with their I-pad, as he had partners in his obsession with anything electronic.
For me, the week was tiring. With as much boundless enthusiasm as only a kid can muster, I still notice the slight slowness caused by sickness of varying types. Whether it was the headache making me want to throw up on the way home or the way A runs with her left arm tucked to her side reminding me she has had a stroke, I kept being reminded our lives are lived somewhere between the mythical Wellville where we all wish to take up residence and the Sickville where so many dreams are forced to lay comatose waiting…for something yet unknown. For this one week, I had a reminder of what could be when I played soccer with my brother in law against the youngins. I felt right, if only for the moments in between. Again, I wish for better words to describe the bitterness I feel as the fondly remembered moments and feelings fade to my ever suspect memory. Such is life straddling the border, pretending to live firmly on the preferred side.
Maybe in the next 100 posts, my thoughts and words will clarify with new skills and thoughts. Maybe they will remain as much a mystery to me as this plant we found on one of our walks. What is this?