Space

When I first met my sister-in-law Linda, she'd just moved herself across the country from California to be with my brother. Having grown up in Arizona and warmer climates her entire life, she had a little trouble adapting to springtime in Pennsylvania. While we all reveled in the 65 degree sunshine after a long, cold winter, barbecuing in the backyard in short sleeves and sandals, poor Lin shivered, all bundled up in her sweaters and scarves. It wasn't long before instead of Lin or Linda, we started affectionately referring to her as Arizona, and always with a chuckle and a headshake.

I admit that flip flops were a bad choice for a 2am arrival in New York City in 19 degree weather. In my defense, they were comfy and easy to carry. Still, snow is enough of an adjustment in itself after flying in from a balmy beach, let alone slush squishing between bare toes! Shortly after reuniting with my family, a cozy and calm Linda caught me layered up, teeth chattering, shoulders up around my ears. She giggled and said, Costa Rica!, shaking her head.

No one has ever called me Philadelphia.

We all start out someplace and follow life through all it's peaks and valleys to where we eventually end up. We adapt many times along the way. I've found error in relating too strongly to any one point. Our true strength, our genuine content, is in all the space between where we come from and where we go.

It gets harder every time I go home and leave again. I puzzled over that briefly, but reflecting on the ache left following my week home for Christmas, I see each time I go back how that space has expanded. But for all the growth in the space between, it's just a bigger opening for love.