Longing feels like loss, but is
hopeful for restitution…for rebirth… for renewal. Loss leaves a void, one that
seems to beg to be filled, but how? How do you bridge the void?

New ideas, new friends, reinventing
yourself? Just keep busy, the mantra plays over and over in my head…just keep
busy… it helps to mask the feelings of loss. Where does busy-ness overwhelm one
and make one long even more for what is lost?

I long for so much: for peace, and
virtue and common courtesy. But in my heart I long the most for what is lost
from my life—the closeness, the physical proximity to my family, my parents,
long dead, and sisters and brothers scattered like clouds across a perfect
October sky.

I long for the childhood days in my parents’ home,
Even though those were complicated days: Too many people, too little space, big
egos, discord (at times), hilarity at others and anger, laughter, fun, grief,
religion, love, hate, discord and peace— family.

Strange to think that the very technology we all embraced from the very beginning has built barriers between
us. How many times can a person call an anonymous answering machine, and have a conversation? How many e-mails lost in cyberspace does it take to finally break down any sense of belonging? For every step forward, it feels like we have lost some big part of ourselves, the very essence of who we were and are.

So I long for intimacy, closeness, togetherness, for belonging and involvement–even though it’s messy, and complicated.

I long for them, for their presence.
I long to love them as the truly complicated, bigger than life people they are.

I long for the gift of family.