Day 554,

It’s the Solstice once again.  I should probably head out already, but I’m taking a moment to drag out this extra little bit of quiet time to myself.  It feels significant somehow that this will be my first solstice fully healthy and… well, “present” let us say.  I’ve been looking forward to this for the past couple of weeks about as much as I have finally being at the library for the last day of school for the season.

But I suppose I should get moving before Cass shows up on my doorstep wondering what’s keeping me.

Taking a brief breather in an empty-for-the-moment room at Cass’s family’s house.  It’s been a good day, but this many people in an enclosed space for hours does still get to be a bit much at times.  Funny, you’d think I’d be more used to it with teaching the kids, but it’s not quite the same.

I should keep this aside short though, seeing as I’m expected to be helping with dinner preparations.

“You’re not a guest, you’re family.  And family helps cook.”

I almost cried when Antigone said that a couple hours ago, shoved a knife in my hand, and set me to chopping vegetables.  At least I don’t think she noticed.  I can just imagine her voice teasing me about vegetable chopping not being that bad a chore.  Cass’s voice too.  I’m starting to see where she gets it from.

Yeah, I really better stop before I get choked up all over again.

Family…

I really should be sleeping right now, but I once again made the mistake of taking Antigone up on her offer of tea.  Not that it was that much of a mistake.  It was pleasant staying up and chatting with her while everyone else was winding down for the night.  I just hope I don’t end up sleeping in late enough to interfere with tomorrow’s plans as a result.

Even with the tea though, I’m finding myself pleasantly exhausted.  I was up early enough that I actually beat Norman and Marva to the family home.  Upon arrival I was put to work assisting with the dinner preparations.  Just as much as Antigone’s words I think it was that act of going through the motions of helping with a big family holiday meal that really got to me emotionally.  I’ve long since resigned myself to never being able to recall any specific or personal details of my past life, but this seemed achingly familiar.  At the time I just made myself focus on that sense of belonging that the ritual brought me and kept my mind focused on the series of small tasks set before me and the swirling filial banter that I’ve slowly learned to at least partially keep up with, but now, alone in my home once more waiting for sleep to catch up and take me, I’m feeling a nostalgic pang of loss that I’ve rarely felt before.

I’ve often gotten the impression that whatever relationship it was the past me had with my past family, it was a good one.  Close and loving.  Now I’m more sure of it than ever.  Standing there in the kitchen was the closest I think I’ll ever come to a real memory of my past life.  And now I find myself torn between smiling at the joy of that memory and weeping for its loss.

Maybe I’m just growing maudlin with the late hour though.  Still, I don’t think that makes it any less real.  Perhaps I’ll talk to Lin and Maiko about it tomorrow.  I like to think they’d understand.  A little at least.

But back to today (probably technically yesterday by now if I’m being honest with myself).  Norman and Marva arrived less than an hour after I did.  I did eventually admit to curiosity about them spending solstice with Marva’s family and they told me they’d spent the morning with them already but would probably spend the next solstice dinner or two with them instead.

The rest of the morning and the early afternoon was a whirlwind of meal prep activity.  It seems the family goes for a bigger, more elaborate meal when it’s hosted here instead of in the Village proper.  It was actually the break in tasks while most of the food was in some state of setting, rising, cooking, or boiling that made me start feeling the need for the break I took to write my prior entry.  I’ve come to realize about myself that without specific tasks in front of me to focus on I get overwhelmed more quickly and that which I’d managed to tune out before catches back up with me.  I must have sequestered myself for longer than I meant to though, with the teasing from Cass and Manfred I got asking if I fell asleep in the chair again.  I really will never live that first visit down.

Dinner itself was good, if earlier to start than I expected, but it was spread out over a long period and after I helped pitch in with the cleanup we moved to a fire pit out back behind the house for drinks and dessert.  And stories.  Tellings from Cass and myself of course (I swear she’s been practicing despite the change in apprenticeship), but also more intimate family stories.  Childhood anecdotes and doings of ancestors.  Folklore passed down.  Tales of the Village and the island that never seem to end up in the archive.

Come to think of it, I think this was the most I’ve heard anyone other than Pat speak of the dead outside of funerals.  Was the last solstice dinner I attended like this and I was just too out of it from everything else that was going on at the time to notice?  Or is this a sign that I’m being treated as part of the family in a way I wasn’t before?

I’d dwell on it more, but I think I’m finally starting to crash following the tea’s wakefulness.  And I really should sleep seeing as I’ll be doing similar over again tomorrow.