My Parents home inspires me. It always has, for better or worse. Its an ambiguous place… boundaries are meshed and fused, we trigger eachother and we heal eachother. My Mom and Dad never suppressed our creativity, but they had a lot to learn about raising an Artist. … Ive forgiven the slips. As a parent of 6 now, I understand the helpless fumbling that we (actually) do with the sheer star-power in our arms.
My parents seemed to love it, and they did a great job. They took in foster kids, even babies and todlers…and a few of them stayed and became our forever brothers and sisters. Sometimes mom did daycare; Her softness and her humour are ideal for childrens' company like she was made for snuggling… and Dad was wise, gentle and affectionate.
With our Granny full up with cancer we are all travelling back to Fort St. James, back to the nest, and gathering around her in shifts…
Its a strange feeling to return to the nest for the purpose of watching someone leave it… but, this is also an important function of a nest; Its as much about the ELDERS as it is about the babies.
Im grateful to have passed through my parents cozy, comfortable, simple country nest. It made me who I am, and today, Im just really glad to be me.