Partings

60: (October 2020)

While my older daughter came into town from Mexico a few weeks ago, we made a visit to my mother, an octogenarian who lives alone in New York. It was a trip fraught with misgivings before we left. Did we take enough COVID precautions? Would we all be safe enough if we wore masks except when eating? Could we make the drive down without needing to take breaks at rest stops?

Such are the times we’re living in. Thankfully, it all turned out all right. But it’s so hard to know where and when to draw the line—when to make the judgement that a visit is not worth the prospective health risks. It’s hard enough to live in different states, and in both my daughters’ cases, different countries, without throwing a global pandemic into the mix. I find that the only way I can cope is to take one day at a time. The pandemic is the greatest teacher in living in the present that I have ever encountered in my lifetime.

I’m thankful for technology that allows me to easily talk with my mother every day and see my daughters, stepchildren, and grandchildren on Zoom. While my mother prefers not to communicate on screen, I find it enormously comforting to see many of the people I love on my computer. It truly is the next best thing to being together in person, in my opinion. I tell myself that this break from traveling afar is only temporary: this virus will end someday! In the meanwhile, I choose to be as safe as possible, because I want to be around for as long as I possibly can to spend time with these same family members that I currently need to keep at arm’s length.

The trip with my daughter to see my mother was just for two nights, but having our three generations together, however briefly, was a bright light in a time period that’s casting a whole lot of shadow. It was hard to say goodbye to my mother, and hard again to drop my daughter off at the airport in New York to fly back to Mexico. But today is a new day, and it is full of blessings of many kinds, from the beautiful fall colors surrounding my home to the pumpkin soup cooking on my stove made from our own homegrown pumpkin. As predictions of the virus in the months ahead are gloomy, the best antidote (as it is for almost anything, as far as I can tell), is gratitude—focusing on the present and discovering the things to be thankful for within each moment.

40: (October 2000)

I visited with the families of my brother and sister last weekend. They both live several states away, so I do not see them that often. Almost a decade ago, to everyone’s surprise, including my own, I found that I loved living in the country, which is quite a departure from my city/suburban roots. So I have wandered the farthest from where we grew up, but my heart always feels connected to my siblings, despite the distance.

Just as the three of us used to do many years ago, my brother’s three small children played, fought, laughed, and cried with each other during our visit. Their distinct personalities are already greatly apparent. One is quite dramatic and musical, another a bit shy yet headstrong, the third an easygoing type who seems one with the animal kingdom. Where will their lives take them? Undoubtedly to different interests and destinations, yet the bond that they share will always be there in some form. They will be tied, each to the other, by their common childhood and the love that holds them all together in the nest we call a family.

My brother, sister, and I also have rather varied personalities, and we lead very different lives. But when I see them, a part of me already misses them before I say goodbye. The family we have shared over our lifetime is always there, even though the walls of the nest are no longer physically bound by our childhood home. The growing-up times that we shared together are simply a part of who we are and always will be. Good and bad, all the experiences we have had and continue to create—all the joys, all the mistakes, the sibling bickering, and the camaraderie—are an inextricable part of who we are.

We go home, each to our own grown-up families, and I hope they know how much I love them, how much I appreciate their presence in the world, and how much I thank them for being a part of my life.

60-40:

The goodbyes are always hard, no matter what stage of life, no matter what the reasons for living apart from each other. It’s funny to think that 20 years ago I didn’t own a cell phone. There were no texts, no WhatsApp, and there was no Zoom. Social media didn’t exist either. Despite the downside of some of that technology, on the whole, I am indeed very glad it exists. It sure has made it easier to communicate with family members who do not live close by, which is essentially my entire nuclear and extended family!

So onward we go into an uncertain future, holding virtual hands and strengthened by the invisible heart connections that weave through time and space, the same as always.