After a stretch of rain, the wind broke the warm clouds apart in time for the sun to lay a few fingers on the remaining golden leaves before it sank down. Damp tree-fallen carpets cover sidewalks and backyards. Children and cars splash as they pass, and the earth rejoices.
November has rolled in. The month of final harvests and thankfulness drops between Halloween and December like a warm cookie. It is the time to revel in colour, dance in rain, walk in sun, eat soup, drink hot mulled cider, cozy on couches with friends, read, write, sing, pull out the sweaters, and give thanks. And give thanks. And give thanks.
I get to see some of my family this month. Not enough, but still good. This place is my home, but my family is not in it, leaving sibling and parent shaped gaps. Sometimes I think fondly of the days where you stayed in the town of your youth, visited your parents for Sunday dinner, watched your siblings grow up, fall in love, start families... A smaller world, perhaps, more than perhaps, but a coherent world. My world is still split, and always will be. This is normal now, for families to scatter and depend on technology to maintain contact. My family does not know what I look like right now - how my hair is cut, how well my skin is healing, what I'm wearing, that my ears are pierced for the first time in my life. And I do not know what they look like - how long my brother's beard is, how much weight my older sister has gained back, how many more wrinkles and grey hairs my parents have.
So I give thanks. I count my blessings. I rejoice in how much change has been worked in me these past 6 months. My digestion is improving! My skin is healing! I have gotten past my condescension towards dresses. I am growing and learning so much. I have good friends, who listen and advise and pray for me. I am not alone. I don't feel alone. I feel safe, for some reason, safe and secure. I am home - I am where I am supposed to be - and I am blessed. So I rejoice. It was warm and beautiful today. My brother comes tomorrow. A flock of birds just flew past the window, black wings against a clearing sky.
So I rejoice.
2 comments:
just please don't cut your hair toooo short - no matter how fashionable or "cute" it may be, it's still your glory. hmmm... so should I tell the parents about your ears? or maybe we'll hear from David...~D.
wait... see if David tells them. I actually wasn't sure how quickly you'd read this. :-)
Don't worry, the hair's not buzzed or anything. I still like running my hands through it too much to get rid of it entirely.
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