random snips

Lately my parents and I seem to go through this routine: whenever I don't feel like talking and am non-respondent (possibly termed "moody"), they suddenly become the World's Happiest People. They sing jazzy little song snippets, they talk to each other animatedly, they make little cheery, Pollyanna-comments to me and feign disappointment when I am not cheery back. Parents. Arrggg. I've got them in a bind though. If they asked me how I was instead of trying to pretend they don't notice, I would probably growl "I don't feel like talking." maybe slam a dish or two. possibly make a rude comment. i've got a pretty wide little pallate of responses designed to ward off any niceness. poor parents.

I recently was talking to a friend about how good a thing that reading through the Bible in a year (4 chapters a day, going strong!) has been in my life, how even though I don't always read for comprehension, reading the Bible daily has become such an ingrained ritual for me. I guess I must have sounded pretty amazed, because he said to me teasingly, "Oh Amy, you mean you've discovered the value of spiritual discipline?" There was a little bit of sarcasm in there, but it was loving sarcasm. And yes, I guess I have. maybe there's something to this consistency thing. hmmm.

Now that my brother is a Marine, and is deployed, suddenly I am part of a new network. Suddenly I have instant kinship with other people who have a loved one in the service. It's so much more of a reality to me now, what a sacrifice it is to send all that physicallness over into the breach. I think about all the love, food, rearing, food that my parents have poured into my brother for the last 20 years, and now he's floating off the coast in Singapore, perched in case of catastrophe. I mean, he's ours! That's our muscle, our legacy, our family blood coursing in his blood, our shared memories housed in that body, our genes. I find myself wanting to comfort people and hear all the details of their distant loved one.

yesterday I went to a huge family gathering in honor of my grandpa's 90th birthday. it sure is fun to have a big family. to hear all the voices singing happy birthday together, to watch the big mob of us try to squeeze ourselves out the backyard, and crowd together on the grass. to feel all that unconditional love that many of my aunts and uncles have for me, just by virtue of me being my father's daughter. they don't even see me much, but they look at me with warm eyes as if i am their own daughter. anyhow, i immediately felt within myself the desire to have at least 6 children, to be surrounded by so much love in my late years. (my grandparents had 12 children! 55 grandchildren at last count!)

a small observation: when all is fine with my world, i am just fine to sleep on my back. but when my emotions are running overtime, or my certainty is gone, there i am curling back into that side fetal position, hugging my big body pillow. so interesting how much emotional/spiritual comfort or discomfort one can feel by changing the position of one's body. sort of like shavasanna in yoga: hands on the belly and it is this nurturing, inward warmth; hands on the side of the body facing up and its a receptive, adrift kind of quality. probably related also to praying on the knees, or bent over forehead on the ground, or hands clasped together.