I think separation in families is one of the most heinous tragedies of civilization. My great great grandmother's sisters were devastated when she emigrated to the USA, grieving that they would never see her again. And they never did see her again after she left Prussia with her husband and five sons for a new life as an American.
In my own family, we have separation. I grieve for my brothers and their children. We are estranged and some of us are exiled. I miss them terribly after all this time. I do not think this separation will ever be cured. The last ten years have challenged me to build muscle in being alone and being strong. But mostly, it's been my challenge to find beauty and the face of God in each and every day. It still isn't very easy and I still have plenty of days where I just cannot bear up under the challenge.
My blog buddy, Billy the Bad Boy of the Classroom regularly celebrates 3 Beautiful Things and I have loved reading about the simple and exquisite moments of clarity in his life. He's honest, he can be brutally honest, and I cherish his model of being grateful and working hard to be whole.
Out of the blue, in the last year, two different members of my family from two different corners, reached out to me and we met and laughed and joked about the old times. And marveled at the new times at hand and looked at each other with wide eyes over the times ahead. In both instances, I was surprised and wary; but each meeting unfolded with a pure, innocent love that only people who share a gene pool can have for each other.
I think some wounds never will heal. Just don't think they will. So it's our job to be grateful for the knowledge of the reality that exists; savor and cherish those moments of beauty that do come our way in the most random of encounters; and marvel at the love and beauty of God's own face. And find joy. Find some joy. And continue hoping that out of that joy will fall peace.
The 'Kan EWA