He made a window for me last night. It was wonderful.
I revel in alone time with siblings and cousins. My selfishness loves
the lack of commotion of family events, and prefers a quiet bar with a
drink or two. Undivided attention for a few hours.
He challenges me a lot. Intentionally, I think. But gently.
I have to let my family be my family.
I have to let our definitions of success be different.
My life is small. I live here in the DTES with my sewing machine and
weird plumbing. Working at jobs with no benefits. Wearing sensible
shoes.
My impact is tiny.
I am happy.
My aspirations take me to a small house. They take me chickens and big
bowl of soup. My ambitions are to make a super huge quilt, to have a
family.
These things are not on ladders. I am not scrambling over rungs.
So I will pour you a drink. I will ask you about your day. Over time
we'll get to know each other, and our hugs as we meet on the street
will be strong and true.
Our conversations will increase in depth, our inside jokes will ripen
to something so funny we will cry laughing.
Blessedness is not counted by degrees or fancy cars. Thank heavens.
Ahhh, brothers. I got to have my own chance at a couple of drinks and undivided attention for a few hours with your brother. He's one of THOSE people (as is my brother). Now if only we didn't go for years without getting to see each other. I think that could be part of my definition of success.
ReplyDeleteBlessedness. I like that word.
ReplyDelete