My Blog

The Pauses

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It's 4:45am. This is the first time ever in my life that I've voluntarily gotten out of bed this early without a plane to catch or a sunrise photo to shoot. I'm stuck somewhere between the time zones of Micronesia and New England, nevermind it's Christmas and I'm thinking about the cheeseballs I want to make, the gifts I want to send, the lighted Hope sign I want to hang on our barn. I wish I had time to write a letter to all the people I love in my life, or to paint something for each one of them. I painted this same scene of Sengekontacket Pond for my daughter, Anna, while visiting her in Palau, the one my daughter, Sarah, had encouraged me to do. It was not only to brighten up her small apartment in Palau, but to leave her with a piece of home. This time I painted it on cardboard from the local hardware store, and we hung it with yellow ducktape over her bed. It comforts me to know that the same image is hanging over both of my daughters' beds. It connects us. Anna's day is winding down. In Palau the sun has set, and here in new England it hasn't yet risen. I won't be able to reach out to everyone I love this season in the meaningful way I'd like, but I will make time to be grateful and to remember that Christmas is a difficult time for many people, so I'll smile at strangers and look for the way that a stranger smiles back", as author Laura Munson so beautifully wrote. The wonder is in the "little things, the in-between moments, the pauses."