Spring Storm
The wind was howling all night. I wasn't too surprised to wake up this morning to blowing snow and about an inch of fresh stuff over our existing snow cover.
Last night Denny mentioned that we didn't seem to have had any big wind storms this winter. Maybe--maybe not. I can recall a few night when the winds were howling but I think--despite all the time he has been at home with his surgical episodes--he has been gone enough to have missed most of the storms. He doesn't consciously remember the storms if he wasn't herer to witness them. He must be repressing the big Thanksgiving Day blizzard and all the hard work that entailed.
This storm--however--is just a minor blip, not even a set- back. The snow has melted away from the front of the green house where I spread ashes last week and the deck was nearly clear of snow when I went out last night to bring wood in.
I had quite a pleasant surprise waiting at the Post Office last night. A letter from my cousin in Idaho. It is hard to describe the emotions I felt when I looked at the familiar handwriting on the envelope. I haven't seen her in person since I was a small child. Her family moved to California and ours moved to Alaska. Our shared grandmother was a source of contact for us--through her filtered the news and photos of our widely seperate lives. After Grandma died, I have missed that contact, nebulous as it was. My aunt has been good about emailing me and sending photos but life goes on and one loses track.
I guess what surprises me is the depth of love I feel toward these cousins I haven't seen in so many years. This one in particular--she and I were the only girls on that side of the family. She was a bit older and I looked up to her and admired her--even across the miles and the years. When Denny had a chance to connect with some of my cousins at my aunt's wedding last year, I was envious and listened eagerly to his perceptions. Of course I knew he would find my cousins to be nice people, but I was particularly pleased when he repeated said how nice my cousin Sherry was. I mean--I *knew* it but I was happy to know he thought the same.
And here, unbidden, was a letter from her in my hands. I was half-afraid to open it. Was it bad news? We had never been correspondents--though I don't know exactly why. I guess I was afraid to make the overture, afraid of being seen as superfluous to her busy and full life. What would we have in common after so many years? Perhaps I projected onto her the rejection I had felt when my repeated attempts to correspond with another cousin (on the other side of the family) met with continued failure.
I saved the letter until I got home, then carefully opened it. Beautiful stationery--she always had this air of quiet elegance--rather like Grandma's understated dignity. I began to read--and was delighted to find this was just a reach-out-and-get-in-touch letter. Well, not "just"--it meant a great deal to me and left me filled with an excitement of re-establishing a bond that had been neglected but never really lapsed. Perhaps the essence of who people are doesn't change all that much over time. The connection I had felt with her as a small child is still there. Lacking any sisters, I depend on my female cousins to be my sisters. As I read the letter, a wash of love and warmth and familiarity came over me.
I guess that is what "family" means. That there are bonds that are unshaken by time and distance. Overlooked and neglected, love is still there.
Last night Denny mentioned that we didn't seem to have had any big wind storms this winter. Maybe--maybe not. I can recall a few night when the winds were howling but I think--despite all the time he has been at home with his surgical episodes--he has been gone enough to have missed most of the storms. He doesn't consciously remember the storms if he wasn't herer to witness them. He must be repressing the big Thanksgiving Day blizzard and all the hard work that entailed.
This storm--however--is just a minor blip, not even a set- back. The snow has melted away from the front of the green house where I spread ashes last week and the deck was nearly clear of snow when I went out last night to bring wood in.
I had quite a pleasant surprise waiting at the Post Office last night. A letter from my cousin in Idaho. It is hard to describe the emotions I felt when I looked at the familiar handwriting on the envelope. I haven't seen her in person since I was a small child. Her family moved to California and ours moved to Alaska. Our shared grandmother was a source of contact for us--through her filtered the news and photos of our widely seperate lives. After Grandma died, I have missed that contact, nebulous as it was. My aunt has been good about emailing me and sending photos but life goes on and one loses track.
I guess what surprises me is the depth of love I feel toward these cousins I haven't seen in so many years. This one in particular--she and I were the only girls on that side of the family. She was a bit older and I looked up to her and admired her--even across the miles and the years. When Denny had a chance to connect with some of my cousins at my aunt's wedding last year, I was envious and listened eagerly to his perceptions. Of course I knew he would find my cousins to be nice people, but I was particularly pleased when he repeated said how nice my cousin Sherry was. I mean--I *knew* it but I was happy to know he thought the same.
And here, unbidden, was a letter from her in my hands. I was half-afraid to open it. Was it bad news? We had never been correspondents--though I don't know exactly why. I guess I was afraid to make the overture, afraid of being seen as superfluous to her busy and full life. What would we have in common after so many years? Perhaps I projected onto her the rejection I had felt when my repeated attempts to correspond with another cousin (on the other side of the family) met with continued failure.
I saved the letter until I got home, then carefully opened it. Beautiful stationery--she always had this air of quiet elegance--rather like Grandma's understated dignity. I began to read--and was delighted to find this was just a reach-out-and-get-in-touch letter. Well, not "just"--it meant a great deal to me and left me filled with an excitement of re-establishing a bond that had been neglected but never really lapsed. Perhaps the essence of who people are doesn't change all that much over time. The connection I had felt with her as a small child is still there. Lacking any sisters, I depend on my female cousins to be my sisters. As I read the letter, a wash of love and warmth and familiarity came over me.
I guess that is what "family" means. That there are bonds that are unshaken by time and distance. Overlooked and neglected, love is still there.
