Tuesday, June 17, 2014

quick reflections on a trip to North Carolina

I just got back from a long weekend in North Carolina with my middle sister and her family. Andi is just 18 months older than me. We spent a lot of our childhood together, and people got us confused all the time because we look and sound a lot alike. Now, we are separated by 3,000 miles and the directions our vocations/roles have taken us (she's been a mother for nearly 8 years, a wife for 13, while I'm pretty accustomed to single, working-in-an-office life). But thankfully it takes a lot to truly separate sisters, at least in our case. Being with her is always like being closer to home, wherever we meet up.

She and her family moved to Durham almost two years ago, and this was my first time visiting them, save the drive down when they moved. North Carolina was beautiful and green and familiar in its rolling hills and summer cicada sounds. I love how wild nature is on much of the east coast -- here, green is often summoned then manicured, like a lot of other things. I took this photo on Sunday morning while I drank coffee on the back deck and waited for others to wake up. There was a slight drizzle in the air, and the sun slept in like everyone else. These trees, the friendly birds, bull frogs, the slower pace all convinced me that it's taking care of my family. I can trust them there.

For me, it was good to get away from Los Angeles and the many things that shape my life, at least for a short time. It's good to take note of what was not missed:

  • high heels
  • driving in traffic
  • a regular schedule and planning ahead
  • sitting in front of a computer
  • responding to email
  • doing dishes (sorry for being lazy about that, Andi!)
  • netflix
  • my running routes
  • making so many of my decisions myself
  • hearing lots of different languages (I heard some, but I have to say that I felt relief at less diversity - it happens)
  • sorting through mail
It was such a gift to visit family and to see how they are growing where they've been transplanted. There is something hopeful about new beginnings and seeing where they have led.

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