Safe Thus Far. A Note From Jan.

It’s been awhile. Temporarily lost my writing voice and the will to push through the brain fog and lethargy of body and spirit. Grief sometimes nibbles at the edges of life; other times, overwhelms. Put aside the computer for two weeks and slid into a cocoon of sorts. Travelled to the other coast: Vancouver, Whistler, and Victoria, British Columbia; Washington and California too. Family reunion for Matt’s Mom’s family. Surrounded by family yet feeling alone more than not. Hiding inside wrinkled skin. A pit….fall.

Annie, Matt’s Dad’s widow, and I took on unchosen roles as white haired widows, representing the other side of Matt’s family. Matriarchs.  We hung out, hid out and did what we could to fill a hole that each of us feels since David and Jud died last November. Sometimes we sat, stared and savored silence. There were moments when we smiled, nodded and said nice things to strangers, sometimes masquerading as family. But only when required or guilt-ridden.  One morning as we rode the Peak to Peak tram together, which was mostly fogged in so the best view we had was of each other, we talked our hearts out in our private cab as we inched up the mountain. Annie’s good company. 

Basil and I played Monopoly one afternoon while his family went mountain biking in Whistler.  Serious trails. X-treme sport. At one point, I landed on chance and withdrew a card informing me I’d just won 2nd place in a beauty contest and was to collect some cash. Basil popped up and said, “You could to that, Momo.  Really.  In life.” At age 75 to get 2nd place in anything’s reason to celebrate. Thank you, Basil.

Yesterday at church, Kate pranced into the pew wearing a fancy dress and her riding gloves.  You know, those half gloves with leather-like fabric covering the palms and with the fingers free. The kind you wear when cycling. Strange combo but that’s Kate. And life. Putting our best self forward but keeping the gloves on. Ready to do battle, when necessary, or to get a better grip as we take off on the next leg of the journey.

Family. Good to be together even when it’s hard. On our final night with the family at Whistler, we huddled together and sang folk songs, some hymns in French, and even a Christmas carol. Luke, asked to sing the song he sang at Jud’s memorial service, did so without a fuss, accompanied mostly by Basil who’s learned the lyrics. Sung blessings. Matt’s Mom’s family came from French Huguenots on the French side of Lake Geneva.

Then we sang Amazing Grace. Sung truth for all our families, isn’t it?  We’re marked by mostly unintentional hurt, complexities, unresolved issues and choices that can impact generations.   Rx: Amazing Grace. The gloves….that grip of grace that snatches us from the pit and nudges us back on track to pedal on down the road.

Psalm 73, read while in Whistler, “When my skin sags and my bones get brittle, God is rock firm and faithful.” “Tis Grace has brought me safe thus far and Grace will lead me home.” And this expansive family that I’m part of. And yours. Led. Safe. Home.

Way better than coming in second place in a beauty pageant, even with a little cash in hand.