INUKSHUK

By definition via wikipedia, an inukshuk is:

An inuksuk (plural inuksuit) [1] (from the Inuktitut: plural; alternatively inukshuk in English [2] or inukhuk in Inuinnaqtun [3]) is a stone landmark used as a milestone or directional marker by the Inuit of the Canadian Arctic. Inuksuit differ from some cairns in significance. The Arctic Circle, dominated by permafrost, has few natural landmarks and thus the inuksuk was central to navigation across the barren tundra.

Inuksuit vary in shape and size, and perform a diverse array of tasks. It is a symbol with deep roots in the Inuit culture, a directional marker that signifies safety, hope and friendship.

My Mom and Dad spent several years living and working with the Inuit people of Canada in Northern Quebec, in a place called Kuujjuaq, formerly known as Ft. Chimo; which some of you may have heard of. If not, feel free to Google it, it is quite interesting.

While there, they would make a yearly trek south to visit us in Florida and each time they would bring me at least one little indigenous trinket and along with it a new found knowledge of the Inuit people that they would share with me. One of these things was a soapstone Inukshuk and a beautiful picture of it. When my Mom explained the symbolism of this item and what it meant, it soon became one of my favorite things.

My Mom and sister are here visiting this week and while there is plenty of laughter, such as the way my Mom and I ran towards each other a'la the Kermit/Miss Piggy scene in the muppet movie (over exaggerated and in slow motion) when I picked them up from the Amtrak station, or my sister katydid imitating my puppy and pretending to hump my leg in the grocery store (unaware that some man was watching us the entire time, and quite enjoying himself in the process) I realized that their visit was just exactly what I needed at this time. Even though I didn't realize that I was in need of anything.

My family is my personal Inukshuk. Although I piss and moan at times about the ways they make me crazy, I adore them more than I know how to verbalize. I am often overcome by the realization that if my family history had a voice, it would be laughter. It would be peaceful and comfortable and filled with love. It would tell people how wonderful my childhood was and what sort of impact that has on me as a mother. It would sing a wonderful song of good fortune.

/End cheese. :)

Well, my katydid just got out of bed and poured herself a coffee, but not before first talking to me in the voice I know is just between she and I and bringing a smile to my face.

Today we are off to play the day away at Universal studios and be great big kids. Tomorrow, who knows. They are only here until Tuesday and lets be real, by then they will be back to driving me a little bit crazy and we will roll our eyes at each other and be ready to go our separate ways again, but that is fine with me. That is family.