Over the weekend the boys and I chased the sunshine. I was craving it... the stillness, the depths, the deep in the bone warmth and the wide expanse of sea, sky and forest as it begins to wake up. There's something about this quarry that feels like every kind of magic balm.
The transition on this side of things has been the hardest, for sure. The new house is still not quite Home. The new rhythms are not quite real routines. So much is still uncharted territory, physically, emotionally, and everywhere in between.
The hardest part of this separation has been witnessing their stories and trying to tell a new one that feels like it might be sturdy enough to hold them into this next phase of life, without getting too tangled in my own. It is painstaking work and often takes everything I've got to show up for them. There are many times I worry I'm falling impossibly short.
Some nights we still aren't sleeping well. Some days we just want to be someplace other than where we are. And some moments we find enough sweetness that makes it all feel like it might just be okay, like these few hours of togetherness spent amidst a landscape of familiarity, where our insides felt like they somehow matched what was on the outside.
Like this quarry, there is a place within each of us that has been carved out. Some parts have been reduced to rubble. Other pieces will be moved into necessary new shapes and structures. Even more will even be beautifully transformed into something we can't even imagine yet. What's left open and gaping will be filled-in and reclaimed, beloved by those who might sit close enough and see into the craggy depths. For now, it is enough.