la familia

It's been quite a week. I was in Texas at my Grammy's memorial and had the moving and empowering experience of celebrating her life with my sisters, brother, nieces, dad, cousins, aunties and uncles. The day had that warm, sultry Southern heat, the sun was shrouded with little puffy clouds, the church plain and small, a giant willow tree out front, my Grammy T. lying peacefully in her gray blue, satin coffin, surrounded by her people. On either side of Grammy were simple card tables, pictures of us all, letters from us all. It was so simple and so pure. Each one of her five children spoke and shared Grammy stories and memories. They then lead the group in one of her favorite hymns, the little church bursting alive with four part, acapella harmonies. I'm sure her spirit was standing above us, arms held high, as she marveled at how glorious the sound was. The gift of song that she gave to her family.

I am so thankful to have been able to be a part of that.

After saying goodbye's in Dallas, I found myself back on the plane, headed solo for Missoula. Jeff's parents have been visiting, so Eliana was well taken care of in my absence by her devoted Nana and PopPop. I didn't have time to miss her, she really wasn't, believe it or not, at the forefront of my mind during that trip. But the last hour or so on the plane, good golly could I just about burst thinking about her skinny little arms around my neck. The reunion was beautiful and I was quickly thrust into life with another one of my beautiful families. Or maybe it's all just my family. The distinction seems to be blurring. There's our little unit of me, Jeff and Els. There's my people in California and then all over the rest of the country. Jeff's people back east and his sissy and her family in Oregon. And our people here in Missoula. Our family at school. Our family of friends. Our new generation of friends that belong first to Eliana, then to us.

I've been feeling the shining, powerful, overwhelming, all-encompassing sense that is family. That is love of family beyond anything else. That notion of importance that puts everything else in perspective. Because I'm tired of feeling guilty and responsible and taking way too many little, unimportant things too seriously. Time is moving quickly. Eliana turns two way too soon. Morty's in his eighties, my parents are in their seventies, and every moment feels precious.

These are precious, precious days.