how we live

picture by ueli bula artbula.ch

I love this picture. It is on a card I purchased at a shop in Geneve last March. I love the white line of quartz that connects the weather-worn stones. It reminds me of who we are. Separate entities who, in time, get all our rough edges worn away. Separate, but connected by the same vein.

I collect rocks, I am very particular about what I choose. Most need to fit within the palm of my hand. All need to show evidence of water, wind and sand at work. Many have veins like the ones you see here... I have always been drawn to these straight crystal lines.

I have been thinking about moving. Selling my townhouse and buying a house near to my youngest daughter. It feels like a practical choice and one that I am increasingly at peace with. I would be more able to lend a hand with the boys, and as I age, she would be nearby to support me. There are a few houses in her neighborhood on the market... and one, in the next block, is of interest to me.

I am still in the "thinking about it" stage... one of my criteria is, if I uproot myself from this townhouse I'm comfortable in, then I want the house to be the way I want it. Garage. Split bedrooms. Open floor plan. Studio. This little house does not have those things... but I think it could have them with a little remodeling.

The other day I picked up a Tucson magazine that showed a house just like I would want. Since seeing the article my mind has begun to chunk along, dreaming of where I would put the garage, the studio, how I could knock out walls and open up doors. I haven't done anything concrete, like see the house, or find out about costs... I am just dreaming.

So yesterday, while at my parents, I started to tell my mom about the magazine and how the rooms looked, and my dad tells me that Bill W., a friend of his, said that if I moved near my daughter I would turn into a cheap babysitter and I wouldn't have a life... and I said, I don't have a life now... and he got quiet and said, no, I guess you don't.

This moved into questioning by my mom about whether I thought I would ever get married again...

But you know, I do have a life. It is just not the life of a couple.

I understand them. I understand their hopes and dreams for me. I know they want to see me safe and "settled"... don't I feel the same way about my own kids?

But I think that in past generations, families lived close together, and that the unit superseded the individual. In my dad's family I watched my great grandmother live with her daughter for over twenty years. I saw my grandmother give herself to her husband when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's.

Since the morning I first held my eldest daughter in my arms, I was smitten. Family, I think it is all important to me.

Sure, there are still lots of things I would like to do. And there are still people I would like to meet. A friend of mine asked me if I would be interested in going to Machu Pichu with her in a couple of years, and I have a class reunion next July. My friend Kel and I are moving in the direction of entrepreneur-ship. So there is lots coming up that is filled with adventure and possibility.

But my life is not so much about what I do anymore, as it is about how I live where I am. I think this is the quartz vein that runs through me. The vein of family. The vein of connection. The vein of love, hope and joy.

p.s there is a robin sitting in the pine tree outside my window. while I have seen robins in Arizona, I have never seen one in Phoenix. Cool!