My family is making plans and preparations for a reunion this August, and I can hardly wait. The last time we were together was at my brother's wedding, which seems ages ago. I miss the warmth and closeness, peace and absolute joy of that event, and I'm excited to fly down. I'm going by myself because no one else in my house can make it, which I'm sorry about, though I admit I love the freedom of flying alone. There's something delicious about lounging around an airport with no one to keep track of and nothing to worry about but my carry-on. If my flight is delayed, it's not as dire as if I were juggling toddlers with diapers and baby bottles. I enjoy airports, full of stories and adventures and mysteries I like to puzzle out while I'm people-watching.
I sincerely enjoy each person in my family, too. My siblings and I have always gotten along great, my sisters-in-law feel like sisters in fact, and my nieces and nephews are remarkable, intelligent, fun, and talented people I like to hang out with. I've never understood people who fight with their family members. I don't remember doing that even as children. We'd cheerfully give our lives for each other, without question, we encourage each other through difficult times, we rejoice with each other when things go well, and we have a great time just laughing and talking around the table. I'm fully aware how truly blessed I am.
Living in a foreign country, far from relatives, can be lonely, and sometimes I forget the rhythm and flow of belonging to a family group. I need periodic doses -- infusions -- of that coziness, that spirit.
Less than a month away now!