14 January 2011
You let down your guard, of course, when you come home. I took a lot of pictures today of a beautiful urn I bought last week to put on the kitchen table. I quietly clicked away at it, harvested the photos and started editing. But then in a long pause of quiet thought as I sat here at my desk, I realized how vulnerable and raw I feel today. There's always this micro-fragment of the biggest one-time soul-shift of my life, from daughter to mother/wife, each time I leave my Mom and return to my family, and today I feel the in-between-ness of it. Not being all the way in or all the way out of a role, I'm slightly adrift, unmanned, like a boat broken free from its moorings in the silence of a still night. I ditched the urn pictures, even though they were so much more comfortable to look at.