...and half still before us.
The days continue to fly by. I am holding tight to my little pre-kindergartener, fully aware that the fall brings change to more than the leaves. I watch her cavort on the beach at Alki, her slim body covered only by a bright swimsuit, her hair dripping wet, as she invents games with logs and buckets of water, and I'm overwhelmed by the loveliness of it all. I am grateful that she runs to me, smiling but shivering, and wants to be held close to me in the warmth of the soft towel while she warms up. I know that as soon as the goosebumps flatten she'll be off again, but in that moment she is a part of me, and of my body, as I hold her close and wrap my arms around her.
Kindergarten is more of a beginning than an end, I think, but it's like those days on the beach. Not that long ago, I had to remain six inches from Tessa when she was near the water, for fear that she'd fall, or find fear in a small wave, or wander off....and now she's grown so independent, not needing me or wanting me in her game. I hold tight to the idea that she still runs to me when she's cold, or hungry, and that she still welcomes my arms around her when she scrapes her toe. She still wants to share her victories with me ("Mama, did you see how big that log was? I lifted it all by myself! Did you see? Did you?"), and with luck and love this will never change. She will go farther and farther away, and I will wonder at this beautiful girl who has replaced my mewing baby....but she will always be my baby.
Ahhhh, sentimental drivel, but it's MY sentimental drivel. I am glad to be able to reflect on these changing days.
Tomorrow Tessa and I will head off in my parents motorhome for a vacation to the Oregon Coast. I'll revel in the warmth of my parents' love and care, and we'll have a great time playing on the Newport beaches. I'm looking forward to sunny days with few responsibilities.
Ryan will stay home to tend the castle, and to work on his job search. He's moved to the third interviews with one company, with applications in at others, and we are hopeful for the right opportunity(s). Transitions are not easy, and this isn't an easy time, but I hold out for the belief that things will be even better than they were before. I don't believe in a master plan, but I do believe that we can learn and grow and create something wonderful. I hold that hope close to my heart.
Last night I went to the WSUUC religious education committee meeting, and I felt so honored to be in the company of such wonderful women. Their depth, commitment, and spirituality, combined with humor and twinkly eyes make me want to be a part of thier group, and I'm grateful for the opportunity.
I have a lot to be grateful for. I am still struggling, still uncertain of so many parts of my path, still hurt by various injustices and confusions and struggles in my life. But I do not forget the gratitude, and this helps to keep me sane.
I will not be on email at all until at least Wednesday, but I will have my cell phone with me if you need to reach me. Until then!
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I don't find your expression to be drivel at all! In fact, I find the scene on the beach quite lovely and the sentiment lovelier still. If Tessa is anything like me (and I like to hope that she is), she will only grow to appreciate those fleeting moments with her mother all the more. You are such a strong and beautiful individual. As time passes, she will come to understand the depths of your kindness and the fullness of your love for her. With growth and distance comes pain, but there is beauty in this too as we come to realize the true strength of our bonds to one another. I miss you, Kristina. I love you and I am praying for you all.
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