Monday, June 24, 2019

Home Again Around the Sun




On Summer Solstice I made my whole family come out on the back lawn at 9:54 to officially welcome summer. I can't wait for one of my kids to write a book entitled, What the Heck--the story of one child being raised by an apostate Mormon Wiccan-curious Social Media Witch. Hopefully it will fly off the shelves and pay for the therapy. You know, the therapy.

I've always loved the ancient and magical culture around celebrating the earth. I love the idea of Christmas combining with Winter Solstice. I love the words equinox, solstice, midsummer, midwinter. I also like the solstice synonyms for their sensuality--crest, peak, pinnacle, crown. And I love that these celebrations started at the very earliest of human endeavors. We figured out pretty early on when the sun was the highest and the lowest the sky and what it meant for us living underneath.

This Solstice I celebrated:

The marriage of my charming nephew Maloy to lovely Mckenna. At a backyard party at sunset, I watched my brother Matt dance with his beautiful granddaughter Bailey, as his brother-in-law Patrick passionately sang Elton John karaoke.

Laughing with my mom and two nieces Emma and Winnie as we attempted a Polaroid to commemorate the occasion.

And that morning, before the wedding, running into Matt on a morning walk when he was outside gardening with his big black dog Chief. I asked him how he was feeling about another child getting married, if he was emotional. "Not really," he said, "but that's because Maloy and McKenna are so great. McKenna is wonderful for our family, she brings perspective and diversity that our family needs. Like you do." Then I started crying so I carried on with my walk.

A get together with friends, having drinks (one appropriately named the Summer Solstice with black cherry) and laughing all the time, enjoying the bliss that being a settled adult can offer. Looking over at Christopher and feeling lucky...and sexy.

Spending the day doing nothing but sitting in the sun, reading, kissing my kids as trades for getting up to do something for them. Contemplating what to do next. Always that.

Drove to Juab County with Anson alone just to check out thrift stores. He bought an old bb gun and I found some gorgeous jewelry I guess no one wanted anymore. I thanked those who gave them up in my heart as I drove home with little pieces of art glistening on my body.

The rainstorm on our way home. We listened to a podcast about babies who experience attachment disorder. Then we talked about how crazy Anson's first year of life was--having had cousins live with us like siblings as he grew that year. Then having them gone. And how hard it was for me and maybe him. And how that might have lead to some feelings we haven't thought a lot about. And maybe it's time to think about it all.

The splendor of the Alpine Loop with Christopher and the kids when the aspens are thick and if you squint you think you can almost see those little midsummer fairies that Shakespeare wrote about being sly in the woods. Listening to Elton John on full blast. To keep up with the theme.

My dad always sang "Blue Eyes" to me growing up, this time when the song came on I turned around and sang it to my only blue eyed offspring Iris Eve.

Blue eyes laughing in the sun
Laughing in the rain
Baby's got blue eyes
And I am home again.