In Santa Barbara, visiting my mother, briefly. The fog is thick in the mornings, burns off by afternoon. The hibiscus is past its height, but still beautiful. And the Pacific Ocean is blue, large, and anything but pacific.
My stepfather has recovered from his January emergency. And in his recovery, is taking very good care of my mother. This comforts me.
One of the best things about a family, in times when you are not in need of succor, is the way their rituals and existence extend your own. I feel larger when I’m with family. Safer, even in the absence of apparent danger.
So, scrambled eggs in the morning, hibiscus in the afternoon, conversations in the evening, sounds of footsteps on the guest house stairs at night. The possible combinations across the world must be endless.
Have a wonderful weekend.