Thursday, August 15, 2013
Their slender arms are waving above their heads in slow swan like moves to a rhythm they have created. I watch from the corner of my eye as I wash the dishes and find myself wishing I had had sisters to dance with or better yet that I was their sister. My women-daughters, gravitate to each other, a bond of invisible umbilical cord linking them together. With each one living in opposing directions getting all together is perhaps twice to three times a year. Yet without fail the time spent together strengthens them and allows them to learn from each other what they have separately discovered on their life travel.
Their dance picks up speed, swirling dervishes they become then they connect arms, heads thrown back in laughter of themselves. They make faces with wide wild eyes, eyebrows highly arched. Beauty in movement my mind and heart feel.
These women I long to still belong to but of recent years have felt an outsider of. Not of love, no, they love their mother this I know and feel. My own life travel has led me to another path they have not felt or seen and I know that when they enter this path it will be me they see as I see now of the elder parents of my Love and I. I want to dance with them, swirl uninhibited, and I could if I would only move my anchored body to them. What inhibition holds me from them? A long inhibition of shyness amongst my family seems silly but I'm still learning to let go. Letting go, letting go, letting go...the sounds of the gentle brook that slides over the tumbled stones in my conscious being. My mantra I am trying to meditate upon.
It comforts me that they are close like this. I hope that any obstacles that may come upon them in years to come between themselves are danced out not yelled out. I find myself saying, "if I knew then what I know now how differently I might have been". Though I try not to think how or what I did in my life that I wish I could have changed, I grasp onto the thought that to have been able to change this would have changed me and would have changed who they are these earth nymphs.
I wonder what the partners of two of my daughters, one married and one not, think as they watch them play. Listen to their outbursts of laughter or their sudden change of topics that they cast out like fish nets, hopes of a similar opinion, intention, direction.
The sisters, my daughters, open my eyes, open my thoughts and I do not wish to say goodbye to them as our time together comes to a close. My tears fall softly as one by one they drive or fly away. My oldest, the one who is the farthest from her home, is the hardest for me to see leave. The first born, the one who taught me mothering though she knows this not. She is the honey to the family hive, for when she comes I know that my middle and youngest daughters will be coming soon. Their little brother, almost grown, he too gravitates to their arrival and presence. Come again soon my little ones, come again soon. My nest is here and I love your infectious joy.