some things just shouldn't be true

Deep breath.  I am trying to unpack some thoughts here. My mind and heart have been swirling lately; doing a bit of a dizzy dance, round and round, trying to grasp an idea that doesn't make a whole lot of sense.  I am reminded that this world is so very broken.

9 days ago my family lost a member.  A beautiful, young, vibrant, graceful woman.  Natasha was my cousin, the daughter of my Mother's youngest sister. She was diagnosed with non-Hodgekin's lymphoma 10 months ago.  This was a shock in itself, but we all thought this fearless girl who really seemed to live life to the fullest would pull through. It wasn't in her to give up.  And she didn't.  But somehow this happened.  She was 30.  I am not really getting it.  But I know those who were closest to her, especially her fiance, with whom she shared a home and 8 wonderful years, are suffering a profound and horrible daily loss.  I have not lost my soul mate. 

I saw her more in this last year than I had probably seen her since she was 1.  I was blessed to have her live in this area, the first time I have ever had extended family within 30 minutes.  I didn't take proper advantage of that.  It was as if, having lived my life up until a few years ago without having cousins or aunts and uncles around more than once a year, I didn't quite know how to bridge the gap that had suddenly become so small.  I have been absorbed in parenting, and allowing myself to be preoccupied and overwhelmed.  

But now there's this.  I missed out.  I could have known her better.  She was like a sponge, always learning.  On the few occasions I got to really chat with her without the chaos of large family gatherings, she asked so many questions. Walking through the house, she looked at art work and asked me about printmaking processes, woodcuts, etchings, and other artsy stuff.  She was such an interesting person, and confident, but she didn't talk about herself.  She was born in Puerto Rico, lived in Kentuky, grew up in Alaska, went to college in Minnesota, taught English in Japan.  She was a singer and a musician.  She was kind and soft-spoken, but  brave and principled.  

Through her cancer battle, she didn't stop planning, living, thinking of others.  She got engaged, and together, she and Garrett planned to move to Ithaca in August, where he had been accepted to graduate school.  Life went on.  Right after her diagnosis, she cut off her long hair, and went to Puerto Rico for a wedding.  She celebrated.  Here she is with her sister Naomi, at that wedding, I think.  She was so beautiful.  She kicked fear to the curb.  May I learn from her example.  May I learn.

rainy day, happy fish

When I'm feeling a little bit uninspired by motherhood, a bit of ennui, there is one thing that never fails to lift me.  The beauty that my little people create.

Here is a sample of the latest in 5-year-old artistic efforts. The top one is Rowan's, and contains a school of goldfish surrounding their clownfish "teacher", as well as a happily spouting whale. oh yes. the heart sings. pure sweetness.

 And secondly, we have a fishing scene. I will admit to drawing the blue fish in the middle, and then leaving the paper on the floor. I returned to find Genevieve creating a whole scene around it, more fish and bubbles, a distant fuzzy whale, calling out in his whale voice (the concentric semicircles), and herself with a fishing rod, on which she has caught a lady tadpole who just got married (the black shuttlecock shape).  There are also many ripples in the water caused by the fishing rod and the swimming fishes.  I may be biased, but I'm feeling Miro. For real, look at these two images, such fun!