Sunday at Dad's
I used to think all this was normal. That my circumstances weren't unusual. I am not sure how I managed to keep that belief for so long. There are implications. What to do when comfort food means grilled asparagus with fresh herbs on a deck overlooking the long hillside? What does that mean for a family? For many years I thought we all loved each other because we were intelligent, examined people. Then I suspected that we might all love each other in part because it's easy to do so in such abundant circumstances. Families are complex. I love mine very much. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.