finding love for the roots

a letter to my greatgreatgreatgreatgreat grandfather.

dear papa TJ,

i've been composing you a letter as i traipsed the streets of washington DC today. i stood and looked at your monument, daring to get close but not quite close enough. i had forgotten such an homage existed at all until i spotted it on the google map - it's that big of a deal. and, like all decisions in my life, once i decided i wanted to visit it, i was determined.

my determination didn't get me quite all the way there. truth be told, i ran out of time. the tribute to your mark on history is so, er, monumental, that i underestimated how long it would take to get to its foot. i watched it like a beacon as i walked down from the white house, across the mall, past the washington monument, over a small footbridge....and then i had to turn around, the building still too far away and across the pond.

i usually talk about you like a demon, use your name for shock value. "my greatgreatgreatgreatgreatgreat grandfather was thomas jefferson." see? i can own it so well. name the demons of my past. naming is half the battle, right?

i've been thinking a lot about love lately. about how to love really deeply even people it's easier to hate. i found myself wishing today that we could have a conversation, you and i. that you were still alive, and we could drink tea together and i could learn to not just hate you but to understand you. i'd pick a really good fight, a whole series of them, again and again. and i'd try to really listen, too. i bet we'd have a lot to discuss. there is certainly a lot i'd like to ask you. i want to learn how to love you fiercely - and fight with you fiercer.

because, you're my people. i am of you. belonging is such a fundamental desire; belonging not just in the present but in a context of people who came before and people who come after. i want to figure out ways to know you, to own you. i want to kick and scream and yell at your bad parts (that'll take awhile...) and i want to find the kernels of goodness that must be there, too. hating you, feeling guilty and righteous on your behalf, kinda just makes me hate myself, feel guilty for myself. and i'm in a place in life where i'm learning new layers of how to practice self- love, self-respect, have patience for my nuances. new depths of how to love, respect, and have patience for other people. one of those depths i'm realizing needs exploring, needs loving, are my roots - all of them, even you.

to be continued. for now, it's time for bed.

xo,

jessie