Being with Those We Love

Beltane                    Waning Dyan Moon

Crowne Plaza Hotel, Indianapolis, Indiana

Family reunions.  First cousins, the forward edge of the baby boom, we hold each other in special regard.  We know the trajectory of each other’s lives.  Kenya lost her husband Ron three years ago, but now sees the world again.  Kathy, with her roots in the military, could not come today because she had a memorial for Hoosiers who’ve died in Iraq.  She’s had bariatric surgery as has Kate.

Diane, who picked us up, stood up for me at our wedding.  She’s lived in the Bay area since 1974.  A breakup with her long time partner, Jeff, still wounds her.  Richard, her brother, retired from Eli Lilly five years ago.  He has long hair, a sulky tattoo on his right upper arm and wore a Las Vegas t-shirt today.  Las Vegas, where we learn to forget.  He races harness horses.

There was little Jacob, wandering from picnic table bench to grass to his mom to Grandma Tanya.  When he tipped over forward, he found the grass as interesting as whatever he left behind in the upright world.

These are the people who know me from the long ago, those years before we learned to read, while we learned to drive and who stood with us as our parents died.

I love them; they love me.  And that is all I know on earth and all I need to know.

A train rumbles along the track outside and sounds like muffled thunder in our room.  We have been back from the reunion for a few hours.  We leave Indy tomorrow morning at 5:30 am.