Off to Portland for the weekend…it’s not happy. Strudel’s grandfather died very suddenly. He was just here two weeks ago taking care of the girls and I am so happy for that. The skipping record theme of my life is that family is what you make of it, or unmake of it, I guess. We’re going to be with his partner of ten years, who was never a mother but has become a grandmother-type for the girls. It makes me boggle a little that of all blood relatives in Portland the person we want to cleave to right now is an “unrelated” person, but nevertheless a person we have spent many happy hours with, and whose house we’ve spent weekends at. The girls are looking forward to seeing her.
The number of people who I have loved but am not actually related to certainly surpasses my actual blood relatives who I love. (Do my children count? I made them.)
I guess I am a big raw wound this week. I am also mentally willing P.’s brother to CALL HIM BACK ALREADY. Please don’t let the living dangle.
Strudel DESTROYING her grandfather at Uno last August.