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“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” — Winnie the Pooh

Finally...the cast is off and in its place is a more flexible brace. My hand and wrist look funny ~ my fingers swollen, that tiny bit of muscle that connects my thumb to my palm non-existent with loose and wrinkly skin, my forearm near my wrist now stylishly thin. And, it still hurts. I don't know what I expected. I thought the cast would come off and voila! everything back to normal. We humans are a funny lot with our imaginations making us believe that everything can be resolved so quickly, so easily, so neatly. My broken wrist as metaphor. My broken wrist as a reality check reminding me of the messiness, the unknowable, the humility in life.

If I take the brace off and type just so (not using my opposable thumb at all) I can connect again with all of you in a way that I have sorely missed. I knew my blog was offering me something important as I looked forward to writing it each week. The absence of it helped me realize what that importance was about. My community, my connection to people I have loved for a long time, the thread that keeps me tied to home.

Thomas and I have hit a wall in the recent weeks. We went home six weeks ago and we are both having the most difficult time being Virginians once again. It took us awhile to figure it out. We have both been unusually grumpy. We pointed to things in the physical world ~ the weather (will we ever get used to it?), the produce (why does the farmer's market have such a limited selection?), the landscape (those are mountains?, those are the tallest trees?). Well now we know. We both just LOVED being home in California and the reality of this new adjustment has just hit us like a ton (or two) of bricks. And, it has not as much to do with the environs as it does with the aching feeling of missing all of you.

All that said... for some reason it feels even more difficult knowing that we made the right decision. It is as if we have both been having a six week tantrum about not being able to have everything we want. We want to be there and we want to be here and we want both at the same time. Welcome to Tala's world and Lala land.

Yesterday the reason we moved here turned eighteen months old. We took a family trip to the Catskills a few weeks ago and I basked in the love of my granddaughter. She is so like her father to me, and it is a powerful and all consuming trip back to thirty some years ago. I brought her a new board book ~ "The Wheels on the Bus". She took my hand and guided me to the couch of our rental cabin, said "lap" and handed me the book to sing each word over and over again. She giggled when I made my lap go up and down with the people on the bus. She said "again". This is why, I remind myself.

In a few weeks I start my part-time job that I took to feel more connected to my new community here. I will have a new identity as a teacher helping first through fifth graders learn about their social and emotional selves. It is a never ending journey this learning about our social and emotional selves. I will teach them about their feelings, how to handle their conflicts, how to show compassion, how to be true to themselves and their values. I will do this through lessons and through modeling getting up each morning and moving through the emotional day with wonder and acceptance. When I meet new people I will now say I am a teacher and a social worker. I am a Virginian and a Californian. A new identity for sure. Like healing a broken bone at 66 years old, adjusting to my new life is just taking longer than I thought it would.