#blessed

I am having a feeling today that I haven't had before. It's tempting to say it's too hard to describe but then isn't trying to describe things the point of writing? It's tempting to make a bulleted list about what it is or isn't like, this feeling I'm having. But this feeling isn't fragmented, it's whole. Bullets would split it up and that wouldn't do it justice. If I close my eyes and go quiet, breathe in and out so that I can feel the feeling, it comes to me in a wave. A bubble. A creamy pan-full of melted butter. A fullness.

I think it's richness that I feel. The deep richness of the love in my life that fills up my chest and rolls out from there.

The post I wrote yesterday made other people check in with me about how I'm doing today--how I'm handling not being at the wedding. In fact, someone who reads this blog whom I've never met was brainstorming about how to get me to Vermont so I could be there (Hi Vanessa and thanks!). I so appreciate the empathy--not only because it's nice to be consoled and taken care of but because it shows me the power of this writing. That makes me feel great.

I feel a longing to be there at my brother's wedding. I so wish I could be there. It makes me sad knowing I won't be there--won't get to see all the moments that make their day special. Won't get to be a part of the stories. Won't get to see his face. Won't get to see her in her dress. I love my brother in a way that is totally different than the way I love anyone else. It's not parental, especially now that we're both older and our 5-year age difference doesn't seem noticeable at all. But it's in the realm of parental. I remember the day he was born. He's the first person in the world whom I've actively known from his day one. I remember him as a baby--this unbelievably cute, white-blonde haired boy. I remember him from so many different phases in his life, and I also know there were long stretches of time when we didn't know each other well because I was away at college and the age gap felt enormous.

I haven't watched him grow up as though he were on stage and I was a spectator. I've gotten to be around as he's grown up and I've had the luck to be a little bit older and able to notice big changes, big moments of him coming into his own. There have been moments when I've felt such fear for him, about him. When he left to go live in Africa to be in the Peace Corps for almost three years and I burst into tears while out to dinner with my friends talking about it. It surprised me to realize how afraid I was that something would happen to him. It's not that I've ever been in an actively protective role or been much of an advice-giver. I don't really know why it's like that but I know it's he alone that brings out that unique combination of immense love/pride/worry/gratitude.

These days we are good friends and that is the best of all. I got to pick him up at JFK on a mini break from the Peace Corp when he came to check out possible MBA programs. We walked the entire length of Central Park and talked about love. We talked about how challenging romantic relationships can be and were surprised to realize we share a lot of the same feelings about the subject. Walking with my brother who was living a life I could only barely imagine in an African village with no running water or electricity was a gift. Getting to be the one who fed him and listened to him and laughed at the many absolutely hysterical moments on that trip was. . .a lot. So much. So good.

A wedding is a big deal. Making the decision to commit to a marriage with someone is something I am so glad I've done and am doing, even though there were and still are times when it's really scary and hard. I have very little, in fact no, advice to give. And he doesn't need advice from me. He doesn't need me there, even though I know he would prefer it if I were, just as he knows I would give so much to be there. My heart breaks a little to know that I won't be--that I'm missing it.

The richness comes from all of that and from knowing that I am where I need to be. Yes, I need to be here because I'm practicing breast-feeding with one of my little daughters. And I need to be here because my husband is here and we have all these little kids who need us. We need each other to lean on and take care of one another as we navigate the *$#!^ NICU again. I need to be here because my big little kids are so glad to see me in the morning and they're changing so much and even in the four weeks since their sisters have been born they've transformed into older siblings who actually seem to get it in a way that is hard to believe. I need to be here because I'm pumping breast milk every two hours and it would be a true pain in the ass to figure out how to do that and store it and blah blah blah if I were flying to Vermont for a few days. There are all of those reasons and yet I know that had I chose to go, everyone here would have been ok. They would have more than survived and they would have been glad for me to get to be with the rest of my family. Well, the babies might not have been glad but they would have been well-taken care of and probably not all that concerned at my absence.

The reason I need to be here is because this is where I belong right now. With my husband. With my children. I feel at peace, even though it was a hard decision and it's painful to not be able to be in both places at once. The richness comes from the realness. It is real and hard to not be able to do everything you want to do. To have to make a decision and choose between two wonderful, important things. I will never get over missing my brother's wedding. It makes me cry even typing those words because I want to be there so badly. But how lucky am I to have all that love there and all this love here and to feel it all well up in my heart, marking me forever. How lucky am I to know that I am part of the story there, even though I'm not there. And he and his wedding are part of the story here, part of the story of our girls' births. I know they will be glad to hear about it when they're older.