So Much Is Happening

Dusk is full on. It’s Sunday evening and this is my first quiet moment of the weekend. The sun is painting the horizon grey and deep blue against the last yellow light, and the four horses in the pasture are up to their knees in grass. In the last two days I’ve seen Adrienne and Emilio, my mother, father, three sisters, two brothers-in-law, two nephews, two nieces, a grand-nephew and a nephew-in-law. I didn’t see my other brother-in-law John because his father went into the hospital yesterday morning, clearly dying, and John spent the next 24 hours with his family gathered in the deep and transformative process of accompanying a loved one to death’s door.  The door opened.  I have 8 days of work left.  I talked to Eric’s mother and cousin while I watered my gardens when I got home. Eric’s cousin talked about how much better he is when he’s working.  It’s summer now and he teaches, so he’s not as busy as he likes, having so much time makes him “edgy.” I’m about to walk off that edge.  Except it’s not an edge, and it’s not a final door, and I’ve been to that door and I’m still here.  Emilio clearly recognized me when he first saw me yesterday, continually meeting my eyes and smiling as he was passed around among the family sitting in the sun on my sister’s deck.  Does this seem like a lot for one weekend?

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