That ol' familial feeling

Good morning, Jane..

The coffee water is on and I have my first round of reading out of the way. Haven't made the papers yet but read up on a review of Ridley Scott's White Squall and then dipped into book reviews about the same. More books and titles to add to the stack. That part of life never ends.

Otherwise it's a grey day and the house is cozy. Thank goodness for all that insulation work. What is nice about the summer's here is this early marine layer. When the family was here they complained bitterly about it being too cold. All that heat in Boise sure spoiled them when it came to summertime mornings here in the Pacific Northwest. What I gather is that they use air conditioning most of the summer in that big box home of theirs, thus making those high ninety and hundred degree days tolerable. For me, it's box fans and open windows at sixy miles per hour. That manages to cool down your average Papa Bear just fine.

That whole Papa Bear, that whole family thing is what I miss the most about life right now. Not just mine but those of my friends. I suppose that is what has been guiding me these last four years, that family thing. Not so much replacing it, as I've done my best to make those road miles happen to see them as often as I can, as you very well know. No, it's more a case of gathering folks about me who are family people, experiencing family life vicariously through other people's get togethers, or by hanging out with family folks and discussing the family issues of the day. Almost all my friends are moms or pops, have broods, are tight with their kin. I love to talk about kids, what other folk's kids are doing, how they're performing in school, what they've planned for vacations, how their weekends went. For me, the life in this house is somewhat hollow without all that interaction I used to have with mine. I miss the clutter, the noise, the high drama, the "hi Papa" as I would come in through the door. I get it through my friends, though, and for the moment, until this house sells and I move onto other things, that will have to do.

So I think of you on these cool summer mornings, wonder if you are getting in your walks, and then think about your brood and what you might have planned. Is it a day around the house? A meal with company? A trip to the mall for school clothes? Have you done the drive-in yet this year? Had the relatives come to visit? Taken off on a lengthy road trip? I think of all our talks and know that somehow I was plugged in to that family thing of mine even stronger whenever we talked about yours. It was easy to talk about family matters, what we cooked up, what we worked on, what had going on for family visits. It's all about family, isn't it?

I think of you and know that that, our parental skills, our ties to our kids, that made our relationship special. I think of our talks and know that one thing, that unquestionable, non-negotiable line in the sand, our children, made what we shared pretty darn powerful. Some folks would walk away, give up that one thing just to be with someone. The fact that you would never in your wildest dreams walk away from those kids made you a heroine in my eyes. You still are.

So I look forward to future summers, to school years, to holidays in ways that I haven't in a long time. The housing market is slow, the stack of realtor cards on my coffee table is small. The drive to Boise is far, but as I go back and forth to market to pick up boxes I find that that road trip is getting shorter all the time. When I finally land and have that long lost opportunity to parent realized again I will think of you and know that you pulled off was pretty grand. You never stopped doing it, you know? Just knowing that has made this somewhat long and hard to cope with current event that much more tolerable. In every way, you used to say, I wanted to be like you. In that way, when I once again become a full fledged parent, I can say, "yes", and be like you in that way that we were and always will be the best.

Your WHMB