here comes santa claus...

the prospect of the upcoming holiday season has me feeling sad.  living in little a-town seems to me like living on a deserted island.  it is neither an island, nor is it deserted, yet i can't help having a feeling of being stranded here, imagining loved ones as being stranded too, the gulf between our island and theirs too far.

the closest island to ours, austin, holds our son c. and his honey c. it's 500 miles away, 8 hours by car or 400+ dollars for the two of us by air. distance and/or dollars limit the frequency of our visiting them.  a visit to any of the rest of the family involves even more miles, more time on the road or dollars for air fare. there's just too much distance between here and where they are.

573 miles away on conroe island lives my only sister m. and her family; 888 miles away on the isle of new orleans lives our only daughter k. and husband k.  1358 miles away, the california island of concord, is home to our oldest son b. and his lady r.  a visit to any family, be it mine or b.'s,  involves long hours by car, sometimes an overnight stay or two along the way, or mucho mas dinero for plane fares.  distance is no friend of mine.

such is the state of our far flung and disparate lives.  the plan is, for all of mine/ours, to converge on austin at christmas time.  all we can do is to make the best of a less than ideal situation; that and to enjoy the hell out of the time we do have together. as sad as the distances between us all makes me, the prospect of being together again, although not soon enough to suit me, but soon enough still, is almost soon enough to make me smile. aio

the circle of life...

i knew before we left for cincy that one my aunties, dad's sister l., had suffered a stroke and was not expected to live.  it was with something of  a heavy heart that we made the trip, planned months ago. while we were there we received a call informing us that l. had passed. not unexpected, but in that same call we learned that another of his sisters, c., had died the very next day. again not totally unexpected, as she had not been doing well of late. 

to receive the news of 2 dear aunties' passing, one day apart, takes one's breath away just a bit.  i'm 63, so you can figure that dad's sisters (all the brothers passed long ago)  are well up in years.  the same story is true for mom's side of the family.

none of us will make it out of this world alive.  still the prospect of losing those close to you is a sad one.

i can't say for sure if it is their generation, or if it is just my family, but my recollection of exchanging hugs and "i love yous", as i grew up are few.  that doesn't mean there wasn't affection, i just don't recall it being expressed  out loud and in so many words.

the prospect that these dear aunties, on both sides, may not be with us too much longer makes me sad.  with the passing of l. and c., i have promised myself i'd sit down with pen and paper with intention of sending them each a token of my affections and fondest memories. i have to do it now,  before i've waited too long.

it's true i could just pick up the phone, but not unlike many, speaking "i love yous" out loud is hard for me.  for me the written word allows me an eloquence i somehow lack when attempting to express my feelings aloud.

that, and the fact that once that phone call is ended, there is no trace of the words of affection outside what may well be a failing memory. 

on that note, i'll close,  i have 6 notes to aunties to write, and 3 to cousins who just lost their mom. aio