Family gratitude

I don't write much anymore.  I don't have much of an excuse except that I usually only have one hand available at a time these days and function at lesser degrees of consciousness a la raising babies: I am frankly afraid my ability to articulate anything well is gone. 

But at 3:09am on July 31, I am both conscious and thoughtful and wanted to jot down a few things.

I am grateful.  I am not always so; frequently I am overwhelmed by the challenges of the day, obsessed with what I am not or frustrated with who I am - but in this moment thankfulness for my lot in life resonates.

I have an amazing daughter - so much so that I worry I will burst of the wonder of her at only the age of 2 and fear the implications of being given such a wonderful gift.  I rejoice in seeing the world anew through her eyes. 

I have a newborn son.  All of 7 weeks old he doesn't do much but exist and be cute; I look daily to see what new changes I might see even as I wonder how life with a boy child is going to change my life.  He is still very new to me but I can't get enough of his smell and soft skin.

My sisters are crazy and maddening but they are mine and I wouldn't trade them for anything; I am comforted and strengthened by them both.  I am lucky enough to still have my mom and dad both, a huge and loving extended family, and a husband who has become my rock in many ways.

At this moment it isn't about the impossible or fear or angst.  In this moment, I just sit here and appreciate being me...and understand how I am not just me but a"lso them.  I am a part of something very special and it is enough. 

I am enough.

She Rocked Our World - Aunt Judy Baker

Today marks a devastating loss to this world - it is the 10 year anniversary of the death of the best auntie in the whole wide world.

I come from a somewhat large extended family on my mother's side - my mom had 4 brothers and sisters, and the fallout from that has been quite a number of cousins, etc. They are all pretty cool people and I love them dearly. That said - the rockingist auntie that ever rocked was by far my aunt Judy.

As the somewhat reclusive, awkward niece with no real feel for social conduct, I never really felt much like I fit in as a kid. Most of my cousins were great at sports, amazing at art, and seemed to understand instinctively how to kid around and talk with each other - I was the one who hid in spare bedrooms and behind furniture reading a book. My feelings were hurt easily, and the best I can do to describe my childhood would be "awkward".

My aunt though - well, she always made me feel pretty special. I felt like she got me - she understood my strange sense of humor, she stood up for me with some of the older kids, and when she did correct me she managed to do it in a way that always felt like she was just watching out for me.

She told dirty jokes to my dad and could always be counted on to whisper them to you later (after a certain age). She smiled with her whole face. Judy had the warmest brown eyes with a glint of wicked, she threw herself into everything she did, and she made friends with anyone who was lucky enough to meet her. Everyone liked Judy Baker.

Judy was my mom's best friend. One of my last memories of her was the time that she and my mother made Thanksgiving Dinner together and they had had a bit too much wine - and my mom had started cooking a pot with nothing in it. Neither one could stop laughing. Every time they got together it was as though they had never been apart - they talked on the phone constantly. My mother, who lived 60 miles away had a lifeline in Judy - she was her secretkeeper, her sanityminder, and her staunchest supporter. The only time I can remember in my entire life where my aunt yelled at me was when I said something critical of my mother - that was not something she would tolerate. "Your mother loves you more than you will ever know. Don't take that for granted or ever say a bad word about her to me."

Aunt Judy was truly the glue for our family. She was the one who mended fences, who navigated our genetic stubbornness with grace and accepted all of us just the way we are. Ten years ago today, she passed after 6 awful months fighting lung cancer. She did not deserve the death she suffered - she deserved a feckin' parade straight into heaven. I know she is there now, looking down, and I pray that I may be even half the person she was - half as brave, half as courageous, half as loving - and if I achieve that much in this life I will have considered myself a success.

Aunt Judy, if you're up there and listening, I'm toasting you sweetie. Thank you for watching over me. I miss you.