Delightful contrasts

I facetimed my girls yesterday to cancel plans for today. The youngest was a ghostly floating face in a sea of black because she wasn’t out of bed yet. She’s sick, but to be honest at 11:30 a.m. I’d half expect that regardless. If sleeping were an olympic sport, she’d be on a Wheaties box. 😂 I enjoy the contrast between her and her sister. The oldest answered with bright eyes and a big smile. Her hair was wet, but she was wearing Christmassy red pajamas. When I complimented them, she proudly told me that was her outfit of the day. She’d showered and put on clean pajamas because she had no intention of leaving the house all day, and she was very excited. 😂 One hears so much about living “mindfully” that it’s almost become trite now, but she brings it to life so beautifully. I can’t help but remember her teenage years when I secretly despaired that she seemed so shallow and disrespectful and held little hope that she’d ever be any different. She went away to college and it began three months later when I got a photo of rocks on a path covered with glittering new fallen snow. “Who are you and what have you done with my daughter??” crossed my mind. 😂 And that was it. Ever since then, I get random pictures of what is touching her soul in that moment. Sunsets and rises, pretty clouds, a ladybug, a tree, sleeping dogs, a candle burning, sometimes just a picture of a room where she feels at peace. When she travels I get videos. lol It’s just really lovely that she grew that ability to feel life in that way, to let the soft and beautiful touch her just as strongly as the stressful and difficult are wont to do. In that contrast again, the youngest is more pragmatic. She has imagination, she writes and draws and creates, but there’s nothing dreamy about it. She doesn’t stress quite so easily, and takes in the lovely spots with the same sensible appreciation of “this is nice” without the googoo eyes and floaty feet. I get pictures from her too, though not as many. She is content to experience and doesn’t feel as much need to share. While both girls feel grounded and strong, the oldest sways delicately from her roots and the youngest stands solid and stoic, not rigid, but less pliant. They’re eight years apart in age, and I would not say they’re close. They don’t speak often or get together much. But they’re connected. Each always knows where the other is at in life and how they’re doing. That rare call is just “are you okay?” The younger looks up to the older; the older admires the younger. There is comfort and ease when they’re together and those times are thoroughly enjoyed. It’s just fascinating to me. I’d love it if they were super close, but my sister and I are also eight years apart and not in the least bonded, so I can appreciate and be thankful for the warm clarity my girls have achieved. Their relationship is as unique as they are and suits them well. It makes me happy to think of them. Happy to have the privilege of knowing them. ☺