Memorial

Earlier today, in a locked post, I expressed some stress and resistance about attending the memorial services of a woman who had been very close to my parents, and who had extended her love for them to my sister and I. We visited her and her family frequently in my early years, and she and her husband had been extremely important to my parents, but I'd only seen M once or twice since Wolfling was an infant.

I'm very glad I went to both the graveside service and the luncheon afterward. It was good to be reminded of what a wonderful woman M was. It was good to see people whose families have been intertwined with mine since before I was born. It was good to be there to support my mother. (My father had to leave after the graveside service.)

And I was honored and touched that a photograph of my sister and I, both of us in footie pajamas at about age 4, were part of the slideshow at the luncheon afterward, including us in the extended family.

I really wish I was better at community, better at maintaining these connections.

Wolfling Forza

I got home from the memorial services to find Wolfling dressed in sweats and a spaghetti-strap tank-top, holding a wooden katana. She's been working with the Forza workout DVD I bought a couple of years ago.

I'm watching her out of the corner of my eye as I work at my desk. She is slim and strong, her gaze focused, her entire body poised and alert. I can't tell you how beautiful she looks, or how gleeful it makes me feel to see her exercising with a sword in her hands.