da beavs

I just returned from the beavers annual weekend "up nort". I am part of a group of women who are willing to love each other. The kind of love I mean is the kind that creates a place for you to feel safe and free to be yourself without reservation or fear of rejection or criticism or anything bad. I suppose, ideally, that that place should be in your family. Like that really happens. But even with the little mishaps and irritations that all groups encounter, in the end, we all chose to make the connection to and acceptance of each other more important than anything else.

So what did I do? I ate well, slept well, laughed until it hurt. I listened to a 97-year-old grandma named Yaya have a phone conversation with her 39-year-old granddaughter. Yaya called her "sweetie" and was so excited to hear that she had just learned how to knit. They ended the call in greek love words that made me cry. I heard of plans and choices for making life better that will make things rough for awhile and I was impressed by the bravery and resolve there. I heard about physical problems that sobered my thoughts and gave me perspective. I saw the letting go of problems and burdens and the unleashed joy that launched in its' place. I saw some crazy-ass pole dancing that is hard to describe. And someone discovered it's easy to knit when you're drunk. Who knew? I watched a man lock eyes with his wife of eight years and play "their song" on his violin with the tenderest notes of love I have ever heard. A second marriage for both, five kids between them and several 'grands', too. The way they looked at each other - the way he loved her with his music - it was indescribably moving. Is there anything better than love? The weekend ends with no magical resolutions to the problems you had before, but there is a change in how you feel about yourself and your life. Not an earth-shattering change, but more like knowing that if you get up in the night and it's really dark, the night lite will be there for you.