Another Memory

Four women with four stories met in a moment. Three sisters and their mother expecting nothing from each other except the possibility of disappointment. The youngest, not quite teen, searched to find personal identity apart from genetics and family personality. The mother, leading in age and energy, basked in parental glee and pride. The elder sister, a seasoned tourist, separated time ago in distance and connection. In visitor status for the first time, I juggled thoughts of nostalgic memories and pride.

Spontaneity was the driving force. With the turn of the key, the ignition sparked and our generational group set out on mission for laughter, support, and a reminder of roots. Distinct reminders and distinct roots. Each woman would learn and grow in uniqueness through the experience.

A rarity for Seattle in mid-winter: a glimpse into spring. A slight breeze lifted heavy clouds across crystal skies. The sun was pleasant to touch as we settled around an iron table tasting wine and lemonade and indulging in chocolate delicacies. Our conversations, seasoned with giggles and silly chatter, disguised our differences. An assortment of words slipped, creating “cheese toes” and rolling laughter and tears. A sweet picnic at an immaculate winery removed my preconceived notions and judgments of how each woman should be living her life. I enjoyed the company, I packed away a memory.

A travel across highway and salt water led us to the historic market. Smelling of flying fish and local produce, tourists and natives alike busily pushed and prodded through a thick lane of human traffic. We lost one another time and again amidst the chaos of diversity, so we learned to hold on to each other by the backs of our jackets. Our four cab train was effective and efficient. A picture of overarching reality: an intriguing image of how life pulls apart and disrupts natural relationships that tie a family together. To navigate through life in such a way is far more challenging. At the time, I simply smiled and packed away another memory.

Our departure home began in darkness and silence after a fierce argument over a Seattle downpour, reduced visibility, and road rage. But life can move too quickly on a stretch of road at 60 mph. A clumsy, but honest, apology surfaced from the depths of my heart. Hurdles of pride and stubbornness stood in its path, but God knew it was necessary in order to soften this persistently hardened heart. I broke family taboo in that moment; to apologize is to create awkward moments. We grew up with water under the bridges and that sort of thing. We recovered well, and laughed some more. Another memory was packed away.

It was the perfect way to end a cherished day. If I had left with hardness in my heart, I would have deflected any attempts of God to teach me through the experience.

Four women came together and departed with different stories, and four women returned to different lives. But I was reminded of roots. I had forgotten that in the thickest moments, when I cannot see through the dense fog ahead, when I am too weak to match the pace of traffic around me, they are there, they pull me forward. Arms are readily extended, back up tears are available to share, ears are open, and laughter provides contagious medicine. They are indeed my family, although we vary greatly in beliefs and values. I arrived with a repertoire of judgment and unsolicited advice, a prideful and selfish use of wisdom; I was prepared to deal it out. The Lord blessed me with restraint and a quiet soul that rested and shared in gracious love: true wisdom in the moment. Nostalgia will remind me: another memory packed away.