Non-family readers of this blog may not realise that a great family reunion is taking place. C&L with three of our grandchildren and J&S both live here already. J&R with four more of our grandchildren are visiting from Alaska, and K is visiting from Oz. Not only that but we also have an (unrelated) family with four children visiting, and a single woman visiting. So we are full to the gills. And things get noisy too.
So strange to think that my wife, four children, and seven grandchildren would not be if I had not (as a butterfly) flapped my wings those 40 years ago or so. Of course, in this story of life we are never told what would have happened.
The other night I dreamed that J and his family were leaving, I know not where too but I knew I would not see them again, or at least not for a very long time. And I was overcome (in my dream) with inconsolable grief. I felt like I would go on crying for ever, or at least for a very long time. And yet, curiously, another part of me knew that I could to some extent control this grief, that I was choosing to wallow in it and, given time, I would get over it and life would proceed as normally as it ever does. And it made me wonder what grief was made of.
Vast numbers of pictures are emanating from this reunion some of which and will, I suppose, appear either in this blog or on social media at some stage but frankly it is rather busy here at the moment and I don't know how I am even finding time to write this.
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