dis/place

I have been distinctly out of sorts for some time now. So much for daily entries on the "Truth and Beauty" front. There have been many, many tears. One of the more dominant feelings is that of displacement. I feel like I've lost an anchor, lost my moorings, and the seas are stormy.

It was a good day to get a love letter. It's from my Tante Geb, from Holland. Ironically, it was sent to my old address, so the person who most encouraged me today in the ways of love doesn't even know my current address. Some impulse (thanks be to God) led the tenant at my old apartment to see if I had another local address. She found me on the internet and called. I picked up the letter tonight. It's in Dutch and in the ever so tidy but not entirely legible handwriting of an eighty-five year old, so I can't decipher everything, but the gist of it is that she loved my contribution to her memory book (which she cannot read with dry eyes) and she loves me. More specifically, (rough translation) "Darling Sandra, I hope you know that there is always a place for you here." It felt so, so good to read that today. I may not know what I'm doing, who I am or where I'm going, but someone loves me anyway. And if I really need to get away from it all, I will be welcomed with open arms, by my magnificent great aunt, on the other side of the planet. I know there are other people who love me, people who'd take me in and care for me, but the out-of-the-blue-ness of my aunt's letter feels special somehow. I needed that kind of special today.