I don't know if it's got anything to do with having a mind that's more creative than analytical, more romantic than practical. But, for whatever reason, I never take anything on its own merit...everything has to be a story, a drama or an illustration. Nothing exists on a base-level...everything has to run deep in my warped mind. I think I think too much! Anyway, so was the situation yesterday as my family gathered to celebrate a birthday. On the surface, a gathering of family. A little food, a little birthday cake, a little laughter and an opportunity to make Christmas plans.
But in the abyss that is my mind (where lives the stupidity that works hard to make somethings out of all the nothings) I kept coming back to the notion that yesterday was a dramatic representation of the (cliche warning!) circle of life that has spun itself in our face yet again. For the first time (other than at her funeral) our family gathered without our matriarch. Though it's been many years since she was cognizant enough to enjoy our time together she still seemed content to be in the same room with all her children and grandchildren at these events. Yesterday, the chair she always occupied seemed awfully empty, even when someone was sitting in it. That is until I noticed that folks started taking turns sitting in that chair to hold and snuggle with the newest member of this small army. Passing my great nephew Hank to one another and sitting with him in the chair that Mother always occupied was a fitting picture, I thought. My heart's been awfully empty since Mother died. But that chair seemed nice and full, holding the beginnings of the next generation of this family.
See, I told you - I can't just enjoy a sunday afternoon with family....I have to go and make it Normal Rockwell meets The Waltons meets All My Children. Still, somewhere Erfy was smiling 'cause one of her babies now has a baby.