View From ThE Apple House

Eight weeks from tomorrow, I will be married.

Again.

The feelings racing through my psyche are so varied and absolutely random, a sure sign my world is about to be turned upside down.

In a good way, of course.

Many of the people I want to attend the ceremony can not be there, and I am all right with that.  Sort of.

If’s a fact of life for me, not all of us being together at holiday time or special occasions such as this.  Most of my family [children, nephews, nieces and siblings] live out of state, in various corners of the country, and can only make the trip every 5 or 7 years.  Jobs, air fare, family commitments, its all part of the equation in the calculation of what is necessary and what isn’t.

I hated it when I was younger and I still don’t like it now.

My grandchildren have never met each other; my children have never met their cousins.

If I won the lottery the first thing I would do is hold a family reunion and gather everyone together. But for now we rely on Facebook and Instagram and texts to see what we are missing.

I know they are all happy for me, whether they are physically present at the ceremony or not.   We are all links of the same chain, missing each other but still connected.

On that Saturday, we will add a few more links to the chain, stronger and tougher than ever.

Family.  The link that joins us all together.