It's Thanksgiving and I am spending it with my daughter, her husband, my son and my husband. We have done a lot of different kinds of things. The best of days and the worst of days all crammed into a short visit. Doesn't it seem, at times, like we are as mute as the lost relatives in the photos. Here I am with some of the people I love them most in the world but I feel battered by unspoken resentments, expectations and anger. Each one trying to share bits of our unconnected lives and somehow come together as a family again. What is important to one of us may not be fully understood and appreciated by the others. As a Mom I find myself cast in the role of peacemaker and arbitrator. But these are adults with complex lives and I am lost. I look at the pictures that we have taken and see the full range of emotions. Here I see excitement and happiness. There I see contentment. Over there I see disappointment and anger. To try and write what's really going on in these photos would take a novella. I love each one so much it hurts and just like when they were little they come to me with their disappointments and hurt, but I can't fix it. I can't make it good again. There is no where I would rather spend my holiday. The times when I can see my family grows shorter and harder to come by the older we all get. So I'll take each minute, good or bad that I can get with those I love.
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