I am in my hometown of Dallas to attend and celebrate my sister’s wedding. So much of the city seems wholly familiar -the green lush grass, the fullness of trees sprinkled with flowers that look like specks of confetti, the Southern twang ringing in the word ya’ll, and the sense of comfort knowing that you are in the place where you were born.

But there are other seconds when I don’t recognize home.  My connection to “home” is muted. Yesterday I felt it in a quiet moment while hanging out with my Mom. It was, of course, Father’s day.  In years past, I remember picking out a card, a small little gift and having dinner with my father. His response was always the same. “Thank you, you didn’t need to buy anything.” When I passed by the array of cards in the grocery line yesterday, I noticed the variety of Father’s Day cards and my eyes gravitated toward space in the middle that laid empty. A speck of discontent resonated inside of me. In one instant, I made a note of all the things that weren’t home anymore. The childhood home and my father exist only in memory. And sometimes I wonder why the grief can become so fresh again.

It is startling to me, this continuous juxtaposition of lack and abundance. I am here to celebrate a beginning with my sister, but at the same time the loss of what was lurks behind. Do we ever find a way to reconcile the two? Or do we continue to let go of one ending to prepare ourselves to embrace another beginning? I’ve learned that I am so bad at beginnings. My default is to tighten and clench my fists and focus on the past.

There is so much abundance, but I sabotage my ability to really sink into it. But it’s there. We all are beginning in one way or another. In my life, it is happening all at once.  My sister will be married in less than week to her  fiance. My mom has moved into her own space for the first time in her life. She proudly says, “I am living in MY own apartment.”

I choke back tears as I watch how the most important women in my life are beginning again.

Home is different. It isn’t what it once was, but for the first time, I am learning how to loosen my grip.

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