It is too early for a heart to heart, but we have one anyway. My cousin has brought me a couple of things from our family's vacation house up north, and as I help her carry her half dozen bags to the metro, we linger under timetable screens, catching up. The last time I spoke to her was almost two years ago, randomly bumping into her at a bus stop in my old home town while I was housesitting. Later, as I dwell on the lingering feeling of her being different from what I remember, it occurs to me that I have never really known her as an adult. We spent a fair amount of time together in our late teens (I'm also a little older than her, though even then I don't think 18, or even early 20's, is real adulthood) but after that, only talked briefly. After each other's concerts, at family funerals, nowhere conducive for really connecting. She tells me she had wondered about me, considered reaching out but thought I wouldn't care. The exact same reason I never got in touch with her. I can't help but say the worst thing as she tells me that I could've called her anytime, that I never had to be alone with my mother -- that I wish I'd known -- but I just care about having her in my life from now on. I need to make sure she doesn't feel guilty over it. In reality I most likely would have just isolated myself even with that knowledge, as is my default. We have plans to visit, once I get done with the urgent literary drudgery. Deciding what I'll bake to bring with me is a nice little thought to return to, in between moments that drag on. There has to be something to the sentiment that God will not put blessings in the hands of people with their arms full of old crap. No one can convince me it's a coincidence that just a few days after I finally let out my burden into the world, I get something in its place, the thing I wished for. Family. Not just her, but also my aunt and uncle as well -- the latter of whom I have been putting off calling for some advice for months, out of feeling like my mother burned all my bridges alongside her own. Both would only be happy to hear from me, she assures, and though it is a little naive to think I'm completely untarnished, maybe the other extreme of myself as nothing but an extension of my mother is just as flawed, and the truth somewhere in the middle. I can work with a chance to be my own person. I saw this thing mentioned, '100 days to offload'; from the pound sign in front I take it to be a Mastodon thing, but I'm fairly sure I came across it here on gopher (since, you know, I came across it) so maybe it's adjacent to, or trickling down to, here as well. I don't think I quite have the humility to participate in a social media challenge, but maybe I'll just be aware of, and benefit from, this hundred-day amnesty for gratuitous writing. Both writing as well as sharing my writing (my enjoyment of the latter being especially forgettable) are things I'd like to keep. Even if not another blessing were to come of it, I have been convinced that I am doing good to myself by it.