Been a while since I opened up my notes on aging. Thanksgiving came and went. Half my family was gone .... always disappointing to recognize that the family that one was born into has gone .... but, of course by the Last Quarter, even the one that you have created has broken into a number of little pieces. I see the sadness in my older son who has decidedly single-handedly to take his wife and child, as well as his two siblings' families to the so-called House of the Mouse. M and I will drive down the 1,000 miles each way and meet them to play a bit.
I think I wrote last year about my oldest grandchild's query while walking through her just-dead great-grandfather's home, looking at the pictures and asking how families are made. She wasn't asking for a sex-education class but a far more profound question about how this thing we call family is constructed ex nihilo ... from nothing.
How do you explain to a six year old that family is a process ... like a fractal ... with one copy birthing many others that are in some ways duplicates of the original. How do we explain it to ourselves as our younger generations have dared disturb the Universe by constructing an identity and a family all their own.
In any case, M and I are tired and struggling at the moment to figure out where the past half century + is packed away. Life, in the end, I suppose, happens along a sinus curve with peaks and valleys full of energy and lethargy. Wake up, wake up, M ... Winter is setting in but there will likely be another Spring.
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