Here in Indiana (ironically, mere hours away from my mother's birthplace in a neighboring state), I'm mystically pondering the two-sided coin of separation and unity...having been absent for a third year in a row from my side of the family's California Thanksgiving celebration. There I am the 'baby' of four sisters...yet my role in the central time zone is as the eldest among siblings/mates at the Chicago Martins festivities.Having promised the Kingdom of Chocolate as my contribution to dinner, I brought pie to the festivities here - the 'derby' variety (pecan with chocolate chips) that is my California brother-in-law's favorite (I remember leaving the inevitable extra one in the Los Altos freezer on more than one thanksgiving), along with a chili chocolate torte that none of my family yet knows exists. This year, I made fresh cranberry relish - almost, but perhaps not quite as good as what has become the California favorite...while my inlaws here bemoan the lack of my mother's traditional cranberry sherbet I would usually bring to accompany the feast. Yet, the smell of my grandmother's onion dressing baking in both kitchens most certainly crossed the country's atmospheric borders of two time zones.
We ate gratefully and heartily in Palatine...wine glasses and coffee cups sang in our hands as, I imagined, my family continued their tradition of grabbing theirs after dinner to walk through the neighborhood, over an enchanted bridge, to a school playground, where grandchildren - and some adults - have been known to swing and climb until almost too dark to get home. We frolicked in hamlet of Woodstock here today. And I couldn't help musing on how all four of us Ormsbee sisters might be unanimous in wishing to have been present at the festival of the same name!
These past two days, I held and made eyes at my granddaughter...while in California, my sister Susan's newest grandchild was welcomed and properly photographed through the keen eyes of a niece. Sister-in-law Susan was the only sibling missing here, but was somewhat 'nearby' with a FaceBook pre-comment. Here and there, most of the main cousins (a newly coined phrase here!) are present for the main event. But this time, NY Sarah was missing from our arms and my heart ached.
The spectre of our mothers' aging, heart-aching lives looms large for both families. My fragile mother has not made the trip from the central California valley to the bay area Thanksgiving for a handful of years or more. Dan's mother is always present here, but shares with my mother the pressing weight of the lack of a co-host and a capable and supportive companion at such events. Both Maynard and Elson died with Alzheimers. But, in and through their lives, they both graced their precious families with humor and a love of life together...and the amazing gift of being able to fix or build anything needed for the benefit of such, with their mantles taken up by the next generations, including willing sons-in-law, grandchildren as well. But the hole these two men have left in spousal hearts and at festive table is, most definitely, unfixable. 'Mind the gap' comes to my mind, not to avoid falling in it, but to be tenderly mindful...and perhaps even respectful of it.
Also missing this year's feast here were our son Jordan and his wife Angela...who, at this moment are closing gaps, forging links during a two week trip to Brazil. Elson Martins - the patriarch of the U.S. clan - was the only one of his family to leave that homeland...and not return for any Thanksgiving equivalents. From Rio to Sao Paulo to Bahia, Jordan & Angela will sit at table with the Brazilian family they became part of during his master's studies there a few years ago. They have before and will again eat, hug, laugh, kiss, converse. I wonder - can they smell the mystical onion dressing from there?
Love happens in spite of and even through distance. Life cycles and swirls around us, making us one and making us miss being one. The being and the missing are all part of the whole. And I suppose it's meant to be that way.
