I know I should write something.  Anything.  Anything at all.  Quite a bit happened this weekend and most of it was really wonderful.  But my brain seems to have been sucked out my left ear and I am now a member of the walking undead.  Well,  the sitting undead.  I am not even walking, just sitting.  Staring.  With the occasional drool.

I could write about how the family gathered together and there wasn’t ever a cross word.  Well, there were cross words, but we spoke them to our children when they were beating each other about the head and neck, or had forgotten to brush their teeth.  Heinous moments such as those.

I could write about how wonderful it was to sit and talk with my sister-in-law with whom I have had many fights and disagreements over the years.  But now we can come together as friends and sisters.  Grace truly reigned over this weekend.  Without her presence and energy, I’m not certain I could have coped with all of the people who were here.  It was good to know she had my back.

I could write about the joy it was to prepare meals with my “special” niece, who became my sous chef for the weekend.  She has many delays and disorders, but the girl is a warhorse in the kitchen and my second set of hands.

I could write about the giggles and silliness from the children who we rarely saw.  They were off playing hard almost all weekend.  But the remains of the day are scattered all over the house.  I have found bits and pieces of artwork from all of them here and there; artifacts and treasures from a stratification of family history.

I could write about the relationships that were rebuilt and strengthened.  The sinews that were tried.  The new bonds that were bridged.  But first my own synapses must meet.  And that seems to be a problem this morning!  So, for at least a day or so more, I will be processing, tidying, reconnoitering and becoming again.  I’ll be back again soon.  In time for Advent with Brother Maynard and his wonderful new book, (which I still have to download), but soon.  I promise.