Had the family over tonight . . . my aunt Marge, 88, survivor of a pretty rough life. My oldest son, in the midst of his divorce, and deciding it would be better NOT to have his soon-to-be-exwife at G'ma's memorial in two weeks. My other son and his wife, who will host the gathering at the clubhouse at their apartment complex. My daughter and her new husband. My ex-husband.
We all ate. Potluck. Daughter made potato soup. Son brought cheese and crackers. Other son and wife made a cheesecake. Aunt brought drinks. Ex brought salad. I made biscuits. We ate and remembered G'ma. Made plans for the gathering in two weeks.
I'm grateful for the peace I feel, yet even as I type those words, tears well up and spill over. I'm not feeling too good right now, so that probably makes everything seem bluer than it really is. But this time of my life is so far from anything I ever imagined. I would so love to be able to cultivate a sense of adventure about all this newness--to try to see the positive in all these opportunites for new choices, new directions.
Well hey. Why don't you just CHOOSE to do that? Spread your lips out into a smile, right now. . there you go .. . well, THAT looks more like a grimace, but with a little practice . . . there, that's better. Even with the tears not quite dry on your cheeks, you are smiling.
Hey, punkin . . . I love you. You are a brave soul and you haven't given up on love, not by a long shot. I'm proud of you.
Good night. Sleep tight.
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