tollipop

watch out, world, here comes another teenager

There are no words to convey the loveliness of having Izzy around.  She is the sweet, funny, odd, thoughtful, sensitive, nature loving, sassy, spiritual, passionate gift placed in my arms thirteen years ago.  

On this day she is wearing a tiara to school, a birthday t-shirt from Sophie, and bringing a shiny pink lunch bag filled with her favorite things to eat.

Izzy meets life shyly but with her arms open, and everywhere she goes she leaves a gentle touch. She feels joy easily and it nearly lifts her off the ground.  When she is sad, that is also apparent. Something about her presence conveys the sense I could spend a lifetime in awe and still not fully appreciate her great worth.

It is both humbling and exhilarating  to be her mother...(in honor of her birthday, I am skipping the part about her closet).

To know Izzy is to feel the touch of heavenly love.  

this side of almost paradise

I often wonder (worry?) about the impression readers might develop from this blog...my chief concern being not to mislead anyone into thinking my life is some golden myth wherein children practice musical instruments with glee as I flit around the house pretending to be the heroine of a Jane Austen novel.  

That would be so discouraging, especially to me.

To be honest, I do find many moments to be exquisite...not because they are perfect, but more for their imperfection: real, resilient, marked by sadness yet touched with grace.

This weekend was exquisite in every sense of the word.  We spent the time with my youngest sister and her children in the mountains of southern Utah enjoying nature in her infinitely changing beauty, the dazzling discovery of every little thing, the languid drift of warm afternoons, the pure sweetness of children and the joy of seeing the world through their eyes. 

My sister's children are indeed remarkable.  Even the youngest, who is barely two years old, speaks in complete sentences.  Auntie Kirsten, he said to me as I was making breakfast, did you know some dinosaurs are real and some are bones?

Try making an intelligent retort to that first thing in the morning.

Life never ceases to fill me with wonder, dear reader.  I wonder at how some things can be so difficult and some things so good, how people struggle with challenges not of their making, how the (understandable) quest for fairness can only delay healing, how crucial it is to pluck every rose from a thorny path, how gratitude transforms one's landscape, and what a shame it is to miss the chance to laugh when hardly anything seems funny at all.  

My heart is full tonight, filled with love for my sister who has come through a hard time and is still coming, adoration for her amazing children, grateful for my entire family and all our joys and sorrows.  We are a work in progress, to be sure--something I don't always appreciate in the moment, but with time have come to accept with greater peace and understanding.

I don't hope for anything more perfect than that.