Family

One of the life “rules” that I will try to impress upon my children will be to always live near family. I don’t live near my family. My sister is a 9 hour car ride from me, and my parents, grandmother, and brother’s family are triple that. The thing is, I need them. I have friends here that have become my family. They know me better than my own family in some cases, and they have seen me through thick and thin. That being said, nothing replaces that need to look into someone’s eyes and see the reflection of yourself from every stage in your life.

As good as friends are, with the exception of the one or two you still keep from your first neighborhood, they didn’t “know you when…”. They don’t know to make fun of you for wetting your pants when you couldn’t get out of your snowsuit in time, or to tease you for having a crush on some fruit loop who didn’t know you existed. They don’t know because they weren’t there. They can’t remind you what Mom called that recipe that you loved so much, or cry with you as you stand beside your grandfather’s grave and recall dancing on his feet, or long walks in the garden. They want to, because your friends (who are like family) are amazing people. Don’t get me wrong, you couldn’t do life without them. What I will tell my kids though is, don’t fool yourself into believing that they replace family.

I went home to Maine last week for my grandfather’s funeral. It was a big family affair because he lived a big, long, impactful, impeccable life. Beside my immediate family, my mom’s four siblings and some of my cousins were there too. For me, living so far away, it was the silver lining on an otherwise heart wrenching experience. If I’m being honest though, as excited as I was to embrace my family, I had some apprehension at seeing some of the aunts, uncles, and cousins who in some cases I hadn’t spent any real time with for 15-20 years. I felt like it would be a recipe for awkward, and I hate awkward.

As they started arriving at the house, I realized quickly that I was right. Not only was I very sad, but now I was very sad around people who I didn’t feel like being vulnerable around. These vaguely familiar faces from my past were people who were related to me, but not connected to me. I was drowning in awkward, and I had a cold, which as everyone knows makes everything worse. Truly, I felt kind of bummed. I wanted to go home and take refuge in my family, and instead I had to be polite.

Polite doesn’t last long for family, and that was true for ours as well. Do you know what happened once the polite wore off? My family quickly got about the business of being awesome. Not just my comfort zone of my immediate family, but the rest of us too. They were funny, and kind. What I had assumed was going to just be related-ness without connection turned out to be relationship. We love so many of the same people. We have memories of times spent in the same houses, walking the same streets and jumping off the same rock walls. Even more, we shared the bond of loving a man that the world would be a little darker without, and though we could tell our friends back home all about him, only our family could remember the twinkle in his eyes, and the deep voice with which he sang hymns. I think that’s what makes family so important. They share your people with you. It’s like a big heart shaped Venn Diagram, and though the parts that overlap maybe small, they connect us in a deep, meaningful way.

I wish I was surrounded by family every day. I like to think that I would appreciate it if I was. Family isn't everything, but they are a piece in the puzzle of “us”, and when that piece falls into place we see the picture completely. We can still figure out what the puzzle looks like with a piece or two missing, but how much easier it is to make out the image when all the pieces are there. I hope I see my family soon. I hope we can get to the business of being awesome, and pick right up where we left off. I hope we laugh again, and cry, and catch up on what we have been missing. I hope that once again, we find relief and comfort in how snugly the pieces fit. Some families are close in proximity, and though mine isn't, we are close at heart. In a perfect world, I could have both.

"Say it ain't so, Uncle Steve. Say it ain't so." :)