Every Day

It comes to me in moments. The fragility of life and the fullness of life in one smile,(or several smiles), in the old argument between my father and brother over the Yankees management, the poking of an abyss of a belly button and the giggles that follow, ongoing conversations among four and six year olds, the sore legs of a 37 year old woman who played kickball, did somersaults and played dodgeball with a dozen kids in the backyard, a shot of tequila held in the air with the ones I love... the list goes on.

Yesterday was another opportunity to take both the fragility and the fullness into my heart.Every year at the Breast Cancer walk, amidst the balloons, the pink shirts, the cheerleaders and the thousands of people I am awestruck - brought to tears. This year was no different. Yet, it was. It was different because there were more people on our team - tenderhearted, familiar yet unfamiliar, people on our team. My cousins joined us this year and along with their kindness, they brought along their lives, adn I felt the deep need to get to know them again... to get to know their children more, their lives but also knew that I already know so much about them! We are bound by values that our grandparents taught. It is evident on the faces of our children. I didn't get much of a chance to really talk to Jacqui, Kristen, Jamie, Caroline or MaryLouise, but I heard their voices loud and clear.

Oh and my sister's voice! Even when she's not speaking, I am laughing at something she has said. There is a constant overture of quick wit that sustains me. She's simply beautiful.

I have fought a quivering chin, a lump so tender in my throat, and an onslaught of tears in the past two days. How can one look into the eyes of any of the children and not feel that way? We are a family.

In a couple days, I'll go back home and my heart will ache. A few days after that, when all is said and done, and the vehicle that houses my nephews and niece moves south, I will be crying. I will be crying for the fragility and fullness of this life as I think about my parents, my own children, my siblings and my cousins.

Yet this is life, and the sooner I understand that and accept it, the sooner I'll... what?

Not ache?

Find joy?

I suppose those two questions amplify the fragility-fullness juxtaposition. I don't know what I'm saying. I guess it's just that my heart is filled with love... tender, aching, and fragile. I'll try every day to never let it go.