that darn river in Egypt again

Kari and I sit across from each other in the front room.
"I can see myself in not only you and Dad, but both sets of grandparents," Kari starts out.
"How so?" I ask back.
"I'm like you AND Grammy AND Leora - we all nurture and take care of everybody else."
Okay - I can take that much honesty - it's true, a part of my core - nurturing. That's not so bad, is it?
"And we talk about how we're feeling so much that we don't FEEL any of it."
Owie - it's getting a little close, I'm not liking that sentence much, but I continue on.
"I spelunk into the deepest recesses of my soul and bring back that information so maybe it can help others in some way. Help them understand themselves, if they've been through what I'm going through, or it may help them in the future. It's a good way to deflect any of the painful stuff away from me, because I can detach and look at it analytically, as in 'now I'm feeling extreme pain that Mom's died. How can I write about it for others?' "
So aren't I doing that now? Aren't I just writing about it all again? Okay, then, I'll make you a deal. I'll pretend, sincerely pretend, that nobody's out there, and I'm just typing these words in here for myself. Please don't comment to me if I've talked about the pain I'm feeling around Mom's death. Happy about my recipe for curried chicken fricassee? Sure - please let me know. But maybe I can do this honesty thing, this FEELING thing (ouch - just the word makes my insides tense up).

This isn't a new thing, not wanting to EXPERIENCE my feelings, it's just second nature, after all these years. So, what I want to say today is that Bill and I rode our bikes to McDonald's to redeem his free ice cream cone coupon, and when he'd gotten it, we went outside to sit on the curb by our bikes. We looked up at the sky and saw white streaks of feather clouds, over smeared patches of lighter white ones, next to ball-like pure white ones. My eyes kept looking from left to right, up to down, and I told him about seeing clouds with Grammy in the hospital, and suggesting that that's what heaven looks like - a big blue sky with puffy white clouds, and how she'd cried, tired and sad, and whispered, "I was thinking the same thing."

There are so many things I remember as I walk through my days. How I was sitting by the phone when I was 13, all grown up, and Dad came with his camera, and wanted a picture taken of Mom and me, and I just sat there with this grim little smirk on my face, and Mom came up behind me and put her hand on the back of the chair, looking lovingly down at me, and I just sat there, not even looking at her, kind of bugged that they'd both put me out like that, wanting a picture - how corny was that? Now I look at that picture, and I think how mean I was to Mom sometimes, how dismissing, how uninterested in her life I was when I was younger. And I know, that's just normal, at age 13, or whenever, but still, I remember these things, and I wish I was always kind to her, and I know that's not possible, so maybe I can use that knowledge and look at my own family now, and strive to be kinder, always, to them. Taking the time to not only 'pose' with them, but to wrap my arms around them, throw back my head and laugh, happy just to be with them. That is what I'm thinking about today.