That's life

I have long talks with Son#1.
He remains silent for a change.
I talk about life - that it goes up and down a lot, and that whenever it goes down, it will always go up again, and vice versa.

The husband and I watched a movie last night, then sat up talking for a while, about these ups and downs.
We all miss my father.
It feels like it was all a dream, that I imagined loving someone like my dad.

I let the cleaning lady go yesterday, with a face-saving excuse.
My grandmother's ring has disappeared - and if it wasn't the cleaning lady, then my heart-felt apologies and deep shame will be sent off into the cold universe - but the fact remains that one needs to be able to trust people, and if you don't, it causes a lot of stress.
I hope I'm wrongwrongwrong about the cleaning lady and that it will come out
But how relieved I felt afterwards.
The boys and I danced in the kitchen to loud country music, feeling all light and happy.  
I can just imagine what it will feel like when I leave my current employer.
Light. 

But this rambling brings me back to what I want to say.
I have very little heritage - immigration does that.
I have a necklace from my mother, my grandfather's watch that he bought in Tubruq, in Libya during the Second World War (which he saw as an opportunity to travel and carouse more than some conviction to fight for a moral purpose), and I had my grandmother's ring.
I have memories that I share only with parents and brother.

When I am no longer here, what my boys will recall about my dad will be limited and not the full shebang of a life shared.
It's an ungrounded feeling.
We flit through life, never really touching down.
This is the human condition, and the same for all of us, immigrant or not.

Must be the Christmas Blues.
These feelings pass.
It will go up again.
 



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