I have had some distressing news in the past few days.
I keep holding on to a quote from Henry James, from this letter:
We all live together, and those of us who love and know, live so most. We help each other—even unconsciously, each in our own effort, we lighten the effort of others, we contribute to the sum of success, make it possible for others to live. Sorrow comes in great waves—no one can know that better than you—but it rolls over us, and though it may almost smother us it leaves us on the spot and we know that if it is strong we are stronger, inasmuch as it passes and we remain. It wears us, uses us, but we wear it and use it in return; and it is blind, whereas we after a manner see.
I left Vermont in January and have been working on rebuilding a shack to a new home. Its been a very long journey and I have said goodbye to the family that I built there. The relationship was broken, perhaps irrevocably from the beginning with long traditions of mistrust and jealousy, compounded with both living in a place were trying to fit in, together and alone was pegging a round hole into a square peg.
But thats the thing about family — some you create, some you are born into. When crisis strikes, all of the fears and misgivings fall away and you are left with strong bonds still there. My ex is undergoing a health crisis, and no matter what happened between us, I still have this overwhelming urge to run up and give him a hug. All of my anger has disappeared, overnight, and what is replaced is a desperate desire for things to work out for him, and for his future.