thud

Thud... A kick in the gut. A realization that you will always love that little bundle you never knew. The reminder that you are going to live the rest of your life without ever knowing what will become of so many whom you dearly love. 

I sit for hours, looking through the pictures of their life, wondering what it must be like to be them, to know we are shutting them out. Do they care? Do they weep over us at night when they remember who we are? 

I imagine their big lives, all swathed in glory and moving and adventures and think of my own, weighed down with constant work. Such beautiful people, my blood. 

How strange to grieve over them so often. As I get older, I find myself grieving even more. I wonder if they know my sisters are pregnant or that they are married. Do they know that we are all grown up now? I can so clearly remember wanting to be just like them. I wanted to emulate their sleek dress and fancy way of life. City, suburban sprawl. I was just a chunky country bumpkin, last they saw me. A young lady figuring life out slowly.

Not that I have come a whole lot further since then, but I would like to tell them what I am, what I love, what I've lived. I want to write a whole book of my life and the way my family weaves into it just so they can stumble across it in some little store one day and know all about me and what I did. I suppose that will be how they will know. 

Worse than strangers, for we may never be acquainted...