Last week I missed Microblog Mondays because I was driving to southern Indiana, by myself, to go to my grandma's 85th birthday. (Nope, that's not a typo, she was 18 when she had my dad and he was 20 when he had me, so I'm lucky to have a young grandparent, even if the math makes eyebrows jump sometimes.) I did not mind driving, I prefer it immensely to flying, and plus I had my trusty new Bluebird to get me there.
It was a whirlwind. I got to see my dad, my sister and her husband, many aunts, and uncles, and cousins, and my cousins' kids. It was a lot of activity and fun to see people I hadn't seen in 5 years (at my grandfather's funeral) -- and so nice that we were celebrating a life together while that person was still alive to enjoy it.
I came home pensive, and was struck with the magnitude of what we've lost. I am so grateful for the life that we live, but it doesn't erase that when we turn 85 (hopefully), there will be no giant picture of all the descendants. Because there will be no descendants. There will be no family to throw a party and make a speech about the impact our lives have had on the family.
Also, I enjoyed running after the kids and counting spiders in the windows of the hotel event center with one cousin's little boy and putting the bubbles from the wedding a few weeks ago to good use. It was a lot of activity, and then I came home and the house was so... quiet.
Now, I also enjoy the quiet. I enjoy the time I get to read and do Pilates and garden and just sit out on the deck in our Adirondack chairs, drinking some tasty Bordeaux and watching for shooting stars like we did Saturday night. Quiet is nice.
But I did have big fat tears rolling own my face as I talked about how my being sad at the loss of descendants, of the children who look somewhat like the children we might have had that I got to spend time with. And I felt like I had to caveat those tears, and be like "I LOVE OUR LIFE. I'M NOT SAD ABOUT OUR LIFE."
It's just those two things can exist together -- the resolution and the loss. The joy and the grief. Sometimes it bubbles up and demands to be felt.
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