I have been feeling especially connected to family lately and thinking of my origins, my lineage. I prepare for the coming of our child, a new link in the chain. I consider the blood lines that make me who I am. I look at the shape of my mouth and know it came from Granny Wright, landed on me, and then to Satvinder. I think of the people who share family connection in this life - those who we are born through. Whether we see them or not, they are in us.
This week, my family in Texas will bury my Aunt Jeanine. She left her body a few days ago. The date of November 28 stuck out in my mind these previous months - I thought the baby might be born that day. It turns out, instead, that day was for the flip side of the coin. A departing, not a coming. The departure of someone who, even in times of heaviness, always seemed to bring some light through laughter.
You know how it is: weddings and funerals, when family all comes together, are never simple affairs. There are so many variations of what family is now - divorces, remarriage, old histories and wounds - in addition to the reunion and connection that comes with times of unions or losses. There is the emotion of the event itself plus all the other stuff that hangs just below the surface - the unspoken, the unresolved, the coming-out-sideways kinds of things. So, with sensitivity of all that is encompassed in these days ahead, I think of my family. I send love and prayers and even from afar, I feel it.
So I'm just walking around through the days, feeling it all. Feeling contractions and the changing of my body, wanting to let the new life come through. Feeling the roots, my tentacles reaching out to Texas, as goodbyes are said. There is so much in coming to human life and so much in leaving it. So much for everyone - because we are all interconnected.
This human life. It makes me want to weep. And it makes me want to sing.
