My friend Teresa came by to meet little Miss Molly before we both left for home in Haines on the ferry yesterday.
Teresa wedged about a dozen totes and coolers on the only baggage cart (what was the ferry thinking?) that were mostly full of her husband Larry’s dead deer from hunting in Tenakee. It was one of those only in Alaska moments as they hefted them on the cart in between suitcases, duffels, and Christmas packages.
Once we docked in Haines, I jumped back in with both feet, as we have an assembly meeting tonight that may last until tomorrow since the packet is 230 pages, and there are several hearings as well as helicopter skiing maps; some big decisions on the sewer plant and harbor expansion, and the manager’s six month evaluation. My phone has been ringing and pinging since I returned. Also, I wanted to decorate and make it look like Christmas really is coming.
So when Teresa called to see if I could ski on the golf course (the tracks are set, and there is skating on the river too- but it is cold, 9 degrees and steaming-) I said I’d already snow-shoed early with Chip and the dogs to Lily Lake, but maybe tomorrow.
The home fire is so nice, but leaving Molly and her mother was hard. Part of it is the season. For some reason I cry a lot this time of year. Maybe it’s for Christmas pasts? Maybe it’s worry over Molly’s future? Maybe it’s lack of daylight? Who knows, maybe I should drink less coffee and more herbal tea? My friend Beth is listening to a book on her phone. It’s full of wisdom from a Tibetan holy man. She told me that he says the best way to make the world well is to take on everyone’s sorrows– inhale them deeply– and fill your heart with that very real woe from Aleppo, or the local women’s shelter– and then exhale joy back into the universal air we all breathe. It’s counterintuitive, she says, but it works. Try it.
Here’s the crazy thing: holding Molly made me miss her cousins. Two are still in Hawaii but will be home soon, but two are just across town. I could wait until after the assembly meeting to see them. When I have more time. I could. I could also read my packet again. But I think I understand the issues and choices, and I know the meeting with all the others will help me more than another pass at it .
That’s why I’m off now to pick up Caroline at school, and see her Christmas tree, and hug her little sister Ivy, and my second child– their mother– and tell them all about the newest member of the family and how much Molly reminds me of them, and how very grateful I am for all it.
