2009-Aug-26: Summer is coming to an end. Time for reflection as the air begins its transformation to another season. I can hear it by the way the wind moves between the leaves on the trees. I love this in-between time.
My sister just left with her kids to go home to France. This is their annual sojourn to America. Each visit marks the many changes in our family over the years. What struck me the most this time is how the little ones are not little any more. I see in their features traces of their grandparents and hints of a mixed heritage. My 16-year-old French niece is asking questions and wants to know about her mother's side of the family.
We reconnected with cousins, nieces, nephews and various relations. I also realize that now I am my parent. The generation before us is no longer at family gatherings. Onse lieve oudjes (our loving elderly) have left this earth and now we are stepping up the generation ladder. This makes me more compelled to tell our story. We have a very special legacy to share and pass down. We are the in-betweens. Perhaps that is why I like this time of year as the season transitions to the next.
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