Festive times in an orphan's world

The day before Easter of 1981 I actually hiked up the long steps of Blarney Castle, in Cork, Ireland. I remember the incident fondly, despite being hungover from surfeits of Guinness the previous evening. I think my hike to the castle and up the long steps was a modicum of penance for my transgressions. In a bit of gratitude I tried to recapture some of the spiritual (as opposed to spiritous) aspects of the experience in the painting at right. Easter of 1981 is one I remember with fondness and even a modicum of grace. Ireland, with its entrenched, albeit convoluted form of Catholic Christianity seemed to go well with the Crucifixion and Resurrection tale.

I have a problem with festive times of the year, both Christmas and Easter, for it is at such times I am struck by intense sensations of isolation in the universe. Oh, I do not intend to be dreary. There is a world of difference between sensations of isolation, or aloneness, if you prefer, and loneliness. I am rarely lonely. I have many friends whom I cherish and would do anything for, as they would for me. No, it's more a sort of existential aloneness that comes from a virtual lack of family. That reality can lead to a feeling of loss-of-place in the world. I am happily married, and my wife and I cherish each other deeply, but that is a relationship of choice, and not family in quite the same sense. My parents have been gone for many years. I don't miss them so very much because ours was not a warm and cuddly home. I have a brother whom I love deeply, although we see each other rarely. I have another brother who chooses to remain utterly detached from any familial connections. That's his choice. I respect it. Maybe even understand it.

But, festive times can make me acutely aware of loss. Here I will mention a person whom I love unto death. I have no children, by choice of my first wife (a choice I respected but was hurt by). But, I do have a stepdaughter by my second marriage. She is my child, and my only one. We have not communicated for a decade. She was in the midst of her teens when her mother and I fell apart. She was caught in the middle, and there were, quite naturally, and sadly, areas of conflict between her and myself in which she took her mother's part in all of it. So she should have, despite the fact that fault existed on both sides. Oh, don't worry, this isn't a whine or a blame thing. Shit happens in God's universe. In my own way I will always love her mother (never trust, but certainly love), and she and I communicate at a very 'civil' level. But, fences were never mended with my stepdaughter. Oh, she's doing fine, and I have contributed at some small financial level many times in the past. She is currently working on her masters on full fellowship at a Norwegian university. She is brilliant, beautiful and talented. I know all of this. But, even if she were a dud, I'd still love her. I have tried to communicate with her, but to no avail from her end. I respect that, even if I don't like it.

Ultimately, even though I have lost many others in my life, and miss many others who have gone, I think I miss young Ms. A most acutely. She, the child I almost had.