After Mark scouted the situation out in the morning, we decided to trek up Trail Creek in the afternoon.
Then on down to a very debauched hot tub scene, five of us in there with wine (I had water), and various, never-before-told, hilarious tales of teenage exploits. Unfortunately — or fortunately? — those photos are not yet uploaded to the cloud.
Last night’s meal was extraordinary. Not just the grilled steak and vegetables, but the conversation, which turned heated very quickly, ignited by the question, “Should we do something to commemorate the passing of Dad and Mom?” This question was inspired by the fact that John C. had created a bench for our sister Mary, his deceased wife who died one year ago, which we had ceremoniously dedicated two days earlier.
And let me tell you, I was utterly astonished by both the passionate divergence of opinions and the attentive respect for each others’ points of view. For about 30 minutes it felt like we were being held in an intensely focused, emotional cauldron of attention while we worked out what, if anything we would do or not do. The main divergence was between holding them forever in our hearts and commemorating them through telling our stories to each other, children and grandchildren, and the idea of doing something physical, some kind of material trace that that would commemorate not just their passing but their import in our and others’ lives. And if so, what? Another bench? Possibly. The question remains alive.
What struck me about the conversation was how we, as a regenerating family unit, are transforming the way we are with one another, each of us opening to more and more of our authentic selves and sharing this expansion in our group process. And already, after only three days, we can see/feel the results. Would that families and other groups all over the world open themselves to receive and focus the passionate intensity of this past weekend’s Full Moon.
We, as a nuclear family, did truly “transform the meaning of ‘go nuclear’.” And the results are thrilling to both participate in and to behold.
After dinner, we regaled Mark to soothe us with some of his beautiful musicianship. An hour later, I was the first to go to bed. Two views from above . . .
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Today: SNOW! Paula, who has to fly out with David for Baton Rouge later this morning, wanted to get a picture of them in the snow. So we all traipsed out, laughing, asking her to lie down and make an angel in the snow. Are you kidding?
Paula was wearing sandals, and not only would our southern belle not make an angel, she walked in Mark’s footsteps all the way out and back so as not to get wet.
Okay.
Oops!
“I’ll make an angel!” I found myself yelling, as I promptly lay down and started to swish arms and legs back and forth.
But the snow was crispy, and did not make an angel. Instead — can you believe? — we were greeted by a smiley face.
