little people seem like oceans

last night we opened our first little jar of canned tomato jam - and it was good! we served it on pan-grilled polenta as an appetizer. will certainly do this again. other uses of the jam we've found so far? mix a few tablespoons into home-made pasta or pizza sauce, or eat straight out of the jar with a stack of crackers. even though we ended up with a little more spice than we bargained for, this will be a nice accompaniment to our fall and winter. well done! (i say to us)

we opened the jar for a friend coming over to dinner - one that we hadn't seen in quite some time, due to paths not crossing as easily nor as often, and a little due to the difficulty around staying in touch that seems to have creeped into my mid- and now late-ish thirties. for the rest of the meal we served: jicama, avocado, orange salad (sprinkle with lime juice, cayenne and salt, one of my favorites) along with a cabbage and red/yellow pepper salad (no sprinkling of anything, just a little steam to soften the cabbage a tad), and corn-tortilla "tacos" made of various mixtures of tomatoes, cilantro, onion, whole long- and then re-cooked beans, red peppers, salt, pepper, and chicken (for the non-vegetarians). for dessert we had baked pears (cut in half, a dollop of brown sugar). all whole foods, with the exceptions of the spices/sugar i mentioned. and it only took about 1 hour to pull the entire thing together, from start to finish. our friend brought a bottle of lovely chardonnay, and i had a sip, and it was heavenly. (for the record, pandora's box has been opened, thanks to our other friend dale, but that's another story.)

the conversation inevitably turned to where we are now. aaron described feeling as though he had been blindfolded, pointed towards a cliff, and told to walk. i described feeling as though i'm on a speed train, and my various imaginings about alternate lives are visible through the windows as i pass them by and they disappear out of sight. still, neither one of us would change anything. the contemplations we're having - me feeling some opportunity costs and aaron simply feeling like he doesn't know what's coming - are in equal balance with the intense anticipation we feel about meeting veronica. fear isn't really the right word. excitement isn't really the right word. anxiety doesn't do it either. it's intense anticipation of the unknown, but alongside that an understanding that she will likely bring a whole new experience of being that maybe we've only broached. what could be the grief of losing a sister or grandparent compared to the grief of losing a child? what could your own sense of accomplishments be against the accomplishments you'll cheer on for your child? how can you compare the happiness of a wedding day, your marvel at exquisite art or world travels, or even a glorious, well-prepared meal to something like your kids entire hand wrapped around your finger? the thought of it seems so massive, so consuming, and at this point, entirely unavoidable.

i find that i need to practice this - getting used to the idea of loving someone that much. i can feel that love building, or just there, and i'm not necessarily labeling it as good or bad; just noticing that it's there when it wasn't before. still, it's a bit overwhelming. i keep wondering: how can i welcome this ocean, and manage not to drown?

my typical response to a big challenge that i don't know how to step up to just yet is to study it, analyze options, review previous experiences, and (likely) altogether over-think it until i've made an informed decision or created a detailed plan. i don't want to do that with this because it just seems like it's not going to help anyway. when i met aaron, seriously, falling in love with him was like breathing. i didn't have to think too much about it, it just was. i am hoping, even though i know that it's totally different, that it's just as calm and sure and zen to have veronica join our family - and that underneath whatever exhaustion, frustration, exhilaration or joy that i feel in any given moment after she's here, is a baseline acceptance and openness her that's not questioned.

and also, even though she seems like a big ocean right now, i hope i can learn to think of her more like air. at least, then, there would be breathing, and she wouldn't seem so powerful or mysterious. after that (so maybe i am going for a five year plan here), maybe i can move on from these elemental metaphors and she'll be a regular person to me.

she will be there and i will be here and aaron will be there. and it will be ok.