Boundless

The troubled waters are flowing in my family these days. I'm not sure how adept I will be at skirting these rapids and arriving safely at our destination, wherever that may be. I admit that I'm feeling a bit unstable and, honestly, angry at my current situation that, although they were initiated by me, have grown well beyond a mere stream to the grand freaking rapids.

We're planning on moving to Salt Lake City, UT, which sounds simple enough but it involves my leaving my home state, and mostly, my parents. My parents aren't happy about it. Out of respect for my family, I won't delve into the details of their feelings or our many conversations. I do feel that I can express my feelings which are that I wish they could adapt to the idea better than they have. The tenderness I feel for my parents is unwavering yet I sense they don't believe it since I'm leaving, as if our moving is evidence of my loving them less. This is where I have to remind myself that there are things which I can't control and I have to rely on the hope that they'll be able to set aside whatever bitterness is in their hearts and acknowledge that their daughter still loves them deeply and soulfully. Just because we're moving does not mean we can't be close: physical proximity is only a small portion of intimacy - our souls are boundless.

Recently at their request, lines have been drawn in the sand behind which we may lick our wounds. Limitations have been defined and emotions inventoried. Distribution of time and affection are being rerouted in order to preserve . . . something, sanity perhaps? I don't know but I'm concerned. I'm concerned that unnecessarily bad realities are being created and prophecies fulfilled that are driven out of fear, weakness and sadness. Rather than shrinking from a difficult situation, I want to challenge them to be strong and focus on what is truly important. My heart is open and vulnerable and I know I'm not the weaker for it. Strength is not gained by hiding behind walls and barriers - it's gained by facing life straight in the face and not flinching.

So, I sit behind the line in the sand and I turn to my husband and my sons and know that they are my family. I'd like to share them with my parents on the other side but they'll have to realize for themselves that we're worth it. I can only hope that they do.