The word distant feels sad to me. It has connotations of the un reachable; events, people and memories that have slipped through my fingers like the sands of time. I read a beautifully written article by my lovely friend at Sea psychotherapy recently about her views on hoarding and her reflections on its relationship to loss. I am certainly a complete hoarder of distant memories of distant family and it is just the loss of those times and loved ones that prompts my collection of snapshots of the past.
So many of my family are distant. We are separated by time and distance. As a child, I was surrounded by family. I have two bothers and a sister, my grandparents lived around the corner and there were Aunts and Uncles and cousins and distant relatives very close by. Now however the traffic was so bad before Christmas, that after 5 hours on the M25 we abandoned a trip to my brother's as we had not even got half way to his house (we did make eventually on another day) and my other brother and sister are so distant that I have not seen my brother since his wedding in 2006 after which he returned to Australia.
And there it is, just why the word distant feels like such a sad one for me.