Reflecting

Ever since getting back from Minnesota, life has felt so much different. Leaving Duluth was really hard after Mike's grandpa passed away. Buzzy seemed like an incredible man. And although I never met him, this was obvious due to the multitude of family and friends who were in the ICU waiting room constantly during the time that we were in town, sharing funny stories and happy memories of him with one another. I think that was the most difficult part for me, in that I was the only person there who had never met him and it was incredibly upsetting to see so many people become so disheartened each time poor news of his constant deterioration would trickle in. I felt really helpless and all I wanted to do was make this group of people, most of who I had just met, feel better. Most of all, I wanted to make Mike and his Dad feel better. I struggled with a strange internal dichotomy each time I would see Mike cry. I felt incredibly empathetic when he would break down and it felt good to be able to hug him and console him. I don't see that side of him often. However, it was really difficult to see him in so much pain and I just wanted it all to be over so that I could make him smile again. I felt the same way about his dad. They are such strong men and to see them so fragile was somehow both endearing and tragic. I think the only person that was able to bring joy to everyone during such a challenging time was Quinn. She had a job to do that week and she did it well. I lived vicariously through her ability to provide a glimmer of light and hope to people who had suffered such a huge loss.

On our nights when we weren't at the hospital, we spent time with the family at the lake house. A group of us walked along the shores of the water in the dark of night with flashlights, looking for crawfish and minnows. It was pretty incredible to see the stars so bright. During the day we took the Lund boat out and fished. The water was always so peaceful and quiet. One night, Susan babysat Quinn while Mike and I ventured to downtown Duluth to watch the lift bridge let a 1,000 foot boat into Lake Superior's port. We stood there, so quiet, watching the huge vessel power past us through the water, working hard to get to its destination to begin working again but leaving a deep wake in its path. That moment was so metaphorical for me. To me, it mimicked the Andersons that I was closest to. I watched such strong people experience a hiatus in their lives and they were working hard to get back to normalcy. Quietly working hard to move forward but their minds still lingering on what had just happened.

There were so many subtle moments where there was an intrinsic bonding occuring amongst the family and I felt priviledged to enter into the Anderson clan during such a difficult time, only to see everyone come together so strongly in the end. Mike, most of all, came back to Texas with a passion that I had never seen before. He hasn't been able to go more than ten minutes without telling Quinn and I how much he cares about us. I think we both returned home with a new appreciation for the family we have always had and an idea of how we want our new family to be. Needless to say, it was an emotional trip to Minnesota but one that led to a lot of self-discovery and growth.

Our new house, our new house together, is the first step to our new life as a threesome and we are so so so happy to be a family together here and have a family elsewhere that we love and appreciate so much.