Home is Where The [Exposed] Heart Is.

For Thursday, Oct. 25, 2012

Yesterday, was full of talks and beach walks, cooking and eating and talking more with Don and Gwen, Sean and Chris.

It occurred to me this morning, upon reflecting on our time together last night, that a vulnerable thing about home - when it involves your family of origin - is the gathering together again after being apart for so long.

Pax, on the beach this summer with my Mum. 
She did a campfire every night with songs and chants we did as kids. 

Paxy asked her to do the  "Going On A Lion Hunt" chant over and over. 

Here he is so filled with joy about her doing it with him, his whole body can feel it.

Granny roars.

For me, this summer I saw my siblings and their partners and children and my parents all together for the first time in 8 years. it was glorious and heart breaking, full of moments I want to remember forever, and stuff I had to work to forget when it was done.

It was tinged with new life, and the narrow escape from death. It was very, very real. I felt old, and very young within seconds of each other. We ate and ate and ate and drank and laughed and played games and pissed each other off.

I would not trade it. But... it takes a while to recover from it too.

Home = Tea

I have not forgotten a post for yesterday, something happened and I have it stored away, but it is an important post and I don't want to rush it.

I just wanted to say that today must be marked down in history as the first day my eldest daughter made me a cup of tea.

She made it all by herself with my favourite tiny creamer jug and the mug I love and her own sugar bowl from her Nana and her teapot from Auntie J'aime that used to be Kira's.

In my house, in my parents house, tea = home. When we walk in the door at my Mum and Dad's first one in puts the kettle on. Something bad happens, good happens, a long day, a good chat, all require tea. My Mum and my friend Jan can both make tea that has healing powers in it.

When I returned from California, where the beloved friends I had there rarely drank tea, my Auntie Gill and dear friend Jennifer together made me a cup of tea to drink with a piece of cake without being asked, and without needing to ask how I took it, they just put it in my hands. I wept with the comfort of being with them, and being known.

I come from fantastic stock. I like to think that Ruby and Bert Payne and Nell and Bert Moloney got to have a little peek on the earth-cam from their spots in heaven of their great-granddaughter making her Mum a cup of tea. A delight indeed. I can see their grins all around.