all will be well

Over the weekend, accompanied by friends and family, I turned thirty-five. It feels pretty good.

We were in Berkeley (aka Birthday) Springs, West Virginia, with good friends, one of whom - Amelia - has a birthday the day after mine. So there was much celebrating with excessive sweet desserts. Also lake-swimming (one of my very favorite things to do), leaf-hunting, BBQ ribs-eating, warm springs-exploring, and plenty of quiet reading time. 

Nonetheless, I sometimes felt mired in what, at a particularly low moment, I heard myself call a "family-wide stress storm." Parent-child conflict, envy, anxiety, fear, and general disequilibrium reared their less-than-welcome heads. When one member of a family system is struggling, the effects ripple through to all members and find expression in all kinds of idiosyncratic ways. And somehow - at least in my experience - traveling can make us uniquely vulnerable to these disruptions in family harmony.

So back home on Sunday night, I determined to call a child psychotherapist  that I've consulted with a handful of times in Annapolis over the years. I brought Frances when I went to see her yesterday morning and I am so, so glad I did. Frances ended up doing most of the talking, and I sat back, watching this animated, creative, articulate child of mine, her face aglow, earnestly explaining the intricacies of her fears (imaginary monsters I had no idea lived in her closet) and laughing about fears from her past that no longer frighten her. I was able to see her for who she is: lively, confident, beautiful.

The sweetest part was the way she was in constant motion -- flopping back on the couch, pacing around the room, curling up next to me -- yet she always managed to maintain physical contact. A finger rested on my arm, a toe squished up against my leg.

It was a great relief. She is a brilliant person, and we love each other very much. We may struggle, but it seemed clear to me that no great damage is being done (something I have sometimes worried about).

Today I walked into the house at 5:30 after a day-long social work training and was greeted by the toasty smell of steaming brown rice, excellent music, and the sight of my husband at the stove and my children quietly cutting and pasting magazine bits into collages on the cluttered kitchen table. What a peaceful and contented scene they formed! I nearly cried with gratitude. They are so very dear to me.

Here's to peace in our homes, and spending time with the people we love.