I am sad and angry. Trying to find thoughts to share but it is all too raw.
I do have three things to share that are lovely things that should not be hidden away because of all that makes me sad and angry.
First, is Julia’s senior pictures. The sitting for these pictures, like everything else that Julia does, was not typical. One of the two photographers who was working that day was immediately sensitive and took extra time and care, trying to make Julia comfortable and trying to capture some of the joy that is Julia. From the proofs, I picked four. One will go in the yearbook.
Next, Cheshire exercised her ginger skill and made a magnificent house for these winter holidays. The two chimneys was a a hint about the house that Cheshire and Justin have found and that they will be moving into very soon. More on that after closing. The other house was also made by Cheshire for Julia to decorate. In the craziness of this year, it was decorated on the last day of winter break vacation and I took a picture before she was ready to eat the walls.
And finally, January 5, 2021, would have been my father’s 100th birthday. I’m not one to make a big deal about birthdays and my father was not anywhere close to 100 when he died in December of 2006. I shrink from glorifying my parents on social media for the simple reason that we were rarely on the same page. We were a bad match, but if we chose each other on some spiritual plane or some micromanaging deity put us together, I can see that there were many lessons that my parents and I had the opportunity of learning from each other. For my part, I was neither a good teacher nor a good student for most of my raising and young adult life. I was resistant and passionate, and rarely willing to meet them even half way. If there is reincarnation, the three of us will probably be put together again and maybe again.
However, one of the greatest kindnesses that my father gave me was his support of our bringing Julia into our family. When we travelled, he was bedridden and could not get to the basement to my mother’s computer. I was writing and posting about our time in China and about meeting Julia. He had my mother print out all of my posts so that he could read about and see his last granddaughter. He died before he could meet her—three months after she was home. I had hoped to travel out east for Julia to meet him but Julia was wild in those early days. Julia came to the funeral—I had gone ahead to Jersey right after Dad died and David had the task of flying in from Indianapolis with Julia. It was hell—there were flight delays and cancelation, a crowded airport, melt downs and screams. We had no idea of how to travel with her. Julia’s behavior during the funeral and reception afterwards was also challenging, but thinking about it now, I am glad there was a little girl running around and making noise to see off the grandfather who wanted her to come home.