Distance
June 9, 2009, by Christie Healey
For Christie Healey, family is chosen and distance is a state of mind.
I have moved many times in my life. Perhaps the most significant was the move from my home village to London in the late Sixties. Looking back it seems that this tearing away from my family and the small world I had known for 17 years set me on the path of the wanderer. The wanderer becomes part of a very different family.
My family is now made up of those I left behind: a sister, two nephews, a great-niece and a great-nephew; a son born in the U.S. and friends I have made over the years. My son has taken up my wandering lifestyle. He now lives in Hawaii. I live in Minnesota.
I have close friends, old and new, in Minnesota, but the rest of my magically selected family live in Los Angeles, New York, San Francisco, New Mexico and many other places. We come together whenever time and money permit, and sometimes when it doesn’t. Just because I need to see their faces, hear their voices and feel their presence wholly and completely.
Distance makes these meetings, for me, more intense and sweet. The memories imprint more indelibly. When I meet up with my son we plan adventures and do the things we love to do together—playing golf, finding new places to explore and foods to eat. But these activities seem only to be a portal to find the closeness that is hard to maintain even given our instant technological connectedness. The conversations develop and deepen in the wonder of each other’s company and by the time we have to part, all senses are refreshed and bonds remade. This is also true of with my magic-family members.
Distance is hardest when a member of your heart-tribe is in trouble or ill. The core of your being aches to be with them and join with their spirit to help soothe and heal. Crackling cell phone connections and email messages are stark reminders that I have to open that inner part of me and find the ancient pathways that join us across space and time.
These thoughts were given to me as I stood on the summit of Mauna Kea watching a sunset. At 13,700 feet looking down, and up, distance dissolved. I saw Saturn’s rings, a star being born and a galaxy twinkling at the edge of our understanding. The space station hurtled across the sky and the moon’s craters were so close I could reach up and touch them. I became aware that I could reach out and touch my family whenever I want. My son was so close I touched him, and then I reached out and touched the rest of my family. My spirit soared up into the cosmos gave thanks then floated back down with a gentle bump to my home called Earth. Distance challenges me, but it can be crossed without any other means than desire and love.
June 9th, 2009 at 6:42 am
Lovely thoughts and images that ease the heartache of being apart from so many I love. Thanks, Christie for the reminder that it is sometimes easier to evoke loved ones by contemplating the heavens than pecking away at a keyboard.
June 9th, 2009 at 9:09 am
Until recently I thought we were all wanderers. I’ve recently learned that is not the case. I wander even when I am not physically moving about the planet. It is amazing the things that can provide connection, dreams are great “conversations” for me, and when I see something and think “Oh! Cathy would really love that!” But I realize visiting friends as I am right now - having moved two states away from most but not all of them, nothing really takes the place of sitting across from them, sharing a meal and touching their new hair.
June 9th, 2009 at 9:31 am
Some of us are lucky enough to grow up in the same neighborhoods our whole lives and have a circle of friends and family who will be with us till the end. Some of are lucky enough to travel the world and embrace family and friends who will be with us till the end. The folks with no nomadic impulse lose some adventure, and those of us who long to movemovemove, lose some intimacy. And anyway, it’s the human condition to long for the choices we did not, or could not make.
What ever wind blew you west, I’m so glad to have been caught up in it.
June 9th, 2009 at 9:49 am
Distance makes the heart grow fonder? Probably…
June 9th, 2009 at 12:04 pm
“Distance challenges me, but it can be crossed without any other means than desire and love.” Desire and love, awesome. I love that we can choose our families over time and when they are far, we can still connect through mind, heart and technology. But when they’re near, and it feels like it’s just a continuation from where we’ve last left off, that’s so special too; a sign of a real heart connection. I’m so honored to be part of the “heart tribe” and can’t wait for more of my special pals to touch my new hair. Love you all…
June 9th, 2009 at 6:22 pm
Beautiful post, and so timely for me. When I came to Las Vegas six years ago after a mid-life divorce, I knew not a soul. Sometimes I felt like I was thousands of miles away from anyone who loved me, and I was. I used to say I was so miserable even Jesus would cross the street if he’d seen me coming.
But sometimes we have to be away from the people who know us to discover who we really are. From this solitude, I became a writer and challenged myself to try stand-up comedy. I came to realize I could never live back east again, even though I missed my kids and grandson tremendously.
Last week my aunt died; I knew the end was imminent and I wouldn’t be able to get back in time to say good-bye. I did go back for the funeral (see today’s post), and it was wonderful to be with my family. Now I’m back in Vegas, back to my “real life,” but my loved ones are never far away. They are always in my heart–those whose lives continue to unfold on this earth, and those who are raising hell in heaven.
June 11th, 2009 at 10:32 am
Beautiful thoughts about distance. I’ve been thinking about it just a little differently- how sometimes you need distance to grow. My niece was supposed to be married May 28th but at the last minute the groom called it off. Shock and horror from the parents on both sides. I, for one, was thrilled because she is only 20, has lived a very sheltered life and was no where near ready to tie herself to married life. Did I mention her family is a very conservative, god-fearing clan? Early marriage and kids are part of “the” plan. Oops!
Since she’s in Michigan and I’m in Southern Utah we keep in contact via Facebook. Oddly, she never seemed that heart-broken. Embarassed, disappointed but not devastated. Soon, she was asking about jobs at national parks; said she needed to do something different, get out of Michigan. Within days, my sister calls, in tears, saying my neice has a job at Bryce National Park starting in 4 days. The kid and I make plans to pick her up in Las Vegas and ferry her to Bryce. Wahoo!
She’s been at Bryce for a week, loves her new life, loves her room-mates and is making new friends. She’s over-flowing with joy, grabbing life with both hands and making plans to move to the ocean when this job ends in November.
Distance is what she needed. Space to grow, to learn who she is and what she is; to become an independent woman, capable of eventually making big life decisions about love and marriage.
June 11th, 2009 at 11:52 am
I moved to London in the late ’60s too. Don’t suppose we knew each other….
June 11th, 2009 at 8:02 pm
My license plate frame reads: “Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost.” That saying, along with “I don’t know where I’m going but I’m on my way” has and is the story of my life.
Wonderful blog. I’m looking forward to reading more.
June 12th, 2009 at 7:32 am
Wow, what wonderful responses and stories… and some lovely thoughts for me to ponder. Thank you to everyone who shared.
And to ByJane: If you were in London in the late Sixties, I am sure we ran across one another looking like extras from an Austin Powers movie.
And to fellow-traveller Lisa Gioia-Acres: You have the best name I have heard in a long time.
June 14th, 2009 at 10:03 am
I, too, live a thousand miles from my friends and former life. The distance has been crushing. This gives me new perspective and guidance on how to melt the miles when I cannot be there and they here. Thank you for your beautiful insights and inspiration. Funny how a post can have such an impact, no?
June 14th, 2009 at 6:59 pm
Merrick, thank you. I never can predict where the help I need will come from, and I am always surprised. Thank you so much for your comment and for giving me the opportunity to give back a little for all the great help I have received.