In the Catskills
When I sat down to write this post about being in the U.S., I thought it would be about divorce, disease, and death.
Three sets of friends are separating and/or divorcing: it is painful to contemplate and painful to watch. Another friend is battling cancer. He seems upbeat and engaged in his rich life and wonderful family, but it is nonetheless scary and uncertain.
Most sadly, a young friend from the Catskills was killed in a skiing accident in New Zealand two weeks a go. She had been a camp counselor for both of our kids, and was a lovely, strong, confident, inspiring young woman. There is no way to understand or put any kind of positive spin on her death. At Zola’s insistence, he and I went to the funeral in New York yesterday. It was excruciatingly sad.
Amidst all of these bad things, India and I have been trying to focus on all that is good and positive in our lives. We have been appreciating the simple, but miraculous, joy of watching Zola immerse himself in play dates and sleepovers with his camp buddies. Tallulah and I spent the morning catching fish and frogs in the little pond on our property. We have organized dinners, and long runs, and bicycle rides, and rugby games. Relishing the sweet and fragile transience of this part of our lives. We are healthy and happy, and surrounded by people we love.
There is no positive spin on the divorce, disease, and death. But we are appreciating this time together, and appreciating life’s rich pageant.