Knee cap jelly fish. Kelp that grows around and clings to a rock at the bottom of the sea. Are we all floating knee caps and the flow writing is our connective container.
A jellyfish tentacle reaches out to taste a sea anemone. But it is the anemone that turns out to be an enemy.
Family IMAX viewings. Laughter with my kiddo. We had an amazing chat – no, deep talk, on the ferry yesterday.
I’m slowly realizing how to be grateful for anger and big symphonic conflict.
Rather than the calm before the storm, it is the calm after. What do we do with those precious 48 hours after yelling, after mistreating each other. After our wounds are cut open and oozing again at the surface.
We find new ways. Different approaches. New language.
What cadence. What tone. What sequence of words will break our old patterns.
We healed some big silences yesterday.
The sky was dark. The ferry was nearly empty.
We sat face-to-face and muddled through our childhood wounds, old and new.
My kid is an incredible soul.
There’s nothing like the apathetic and loving look from your teenager.
He holds back his laughter. His dimples muddy.
(Look at my stepmom, dancing like a fool in the ferry line-up.
Who is she? Is she OK? Like, in the head?)
I know down the road he will cherish at least pieces of my nonsense.
I know this because, this is what I hold onto with my dad, Bob, my Grandpa…
Even my mom who is still here.
The goofiness.
where rivers are born 