Having said all that, Lars and I did our usual round of "what if . . ." Which included us moving into his dad's neighborhood, sending the kids to my aunt's Montessori school, having weekly dinners with our parents and never having to do that damn-awful goodbye again. I hate goodbye. Sometimes I feel like I don't belong there any more and most often I feel like I don't belong here. Someday someplace will feel like home again, and if I had it my way it would be where all my family could live right near us, where no one ever lost their jobs, and there was a fun BBQ to go to at a friend's house every Friday with plenty of Vernors, Jolly Pumpkin beer and Zingerman's desserts.
Grandpa Lee (Lars' dad) and Grandpa Jim met Tova for the first time at Grandma Marriete's/Meme's funeral (2/2/09).
Tova (9-weeks) was watched over by US Marshals during the service and after, as she got to make the acquaintance of Grandpa Wendell (92-years). The extremes of life were not lost on me, but near about made me rupture my heart. Only so much emotion I can handle these days, not to mention the agony I feel because Tova never got the chance to meet Meme.
Smiling at Grandpa Wendell. Again, too much emotion for me, so I stayed on the other side of the room where the lemon bars were safely in arms reach.
You can never get too many kisses in your life.
Oh for crying out loud, did we really have to say good-bye to Thorne again? Was it really necessary to go through that? It's like salt on wounds. Salt. Salt. Salt.
This little girl deserves to have all these wonderful adults around her all the time. All the time! Are you listening?!
Later, there were even a few smiles from my mom and my newly widowed grandpa.
We're so lucky to have them all. But Hell, crap, piss -- it is so painful to say goodbye.
Lots of people love my kids in Michigan! Damn goodbyes.
Oh Lord give me the strength to get back to California.
Please? Someone help me? Because separating the most important people in your life from the other most important people in you life is like . . . it's like something really awful . . . so awful and physically painful and I just don't know what to call it. The US Marshals bit was no joke, they really were there to do security at the funeral. I suppose it was because my grandpa's Federal Judge buddies showed up -- too many of those guys all in one place at the same time, I suppose.
2 comments:
Awww, Michigan misses you, too. All of us in the entire state, especially pockets in GR and AA. We'll bring snowballs and icicles when we come, ok? And all the love we can squeeze into our suitcases. I'm glad you're safely back home in San Diego, with your new dearhearts who missed you while you were gone.
Much as I'd love to have you back, I'm not sure it would be best for your family to rely once more on Michigan's economy to sustain you. But boy would it be fun to have you back.
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