Family such strange combinations of people even though we
are weaved from the same cloth – no two people exactly alike on the surface but
when you scratch beneath the surface, certain traits emerge as the same – a mannerism,
a statement uttered at the same time, eyes locking when there is an understanding
only family members understand.
But what weaves families closer together than anything else
is the history we share. A history that no one else outside the family could
ever know as intimately. And even that history varies according to the
different perspectives when it’s told from one member’s vantage point. Yesterday
my family got together for an impromptu gathering – the first holiday of the New
Year. And what a great way to start the year.
Of course everyone arrived about an hour late – expected with
family. And they trickled in one by one. The first to arrive quiet looking
around trying to find their way. As each member arrived the volume increased,
the energy expanded. Each member trying to re-establish the connection that we
all had when we were growing up. Each member bringing his or her story to the
gathering. Different generations gathered around the kitchen, dining room and
living room. The younger children off
into other parts of the house entertaining themselves. The teenagers and young
adults gathered amongst the adults trying hard to be grown up but sometimes
wishing they were elsewhere.
The matriarch and only remaining member of my mother’s immediate
side of the family arrived first with her eldest daughter and her grandson. I
am always pleased to see her because she provides me with my greatest and only
connection to my mother. They don’t look alike. They don’t speak alike. But
they share an even greater history than I had with my mother – at least a
longer one. I feel comforted knowing she knew my mother intimately. And if ever
I want to feel close to my mother I just have to look to her. She reminds me
that my mother really did exist and was not a dream or a figment of my
imagination. She grounds me and my memories of my mother. She is like my security
blanket.
My eldest sister arrives raising the volume of the gathering
to its highest octave. She brings the life into the family all the time -
sometimes with controversy other times with tenderness. She is the first to criticise,
“Your pea soup has no taste.” Then quickly assumes control of spicing up the
soup. I am not offended by her remarks or actions because I accept her for who
she is. She is the first to start everyone bantering back and forth. She is full
of bravado but the one I know I can rely on for anything. When my mother died
she was the first one there assuming control, stepping in to make sure everyone
was okay, pushing aside differences and placing her life on the back burner to
make sure we were all going to be okay. She still is like that today underneath
the hard exterior she projects. Underneath the criticisms, the gruffness. Always
on a diet. Always exercising . Always voicing her opinion. But has a heart of
gold. And I take comfort in that.
My Aunt’s children arrive one by one and I always admire how
close they are. They stick together no matter what. They always gather. And
they never forget each other.
Then my youngest brother and his family arrive and I am so
happy because they came. My brother and I have had our differences but at the
end of the day he is my blood and always will be so. I will always hold a special place in my heart
for him. He was only eight when our mother died. Ripped out of her arms when
she died suddenly beside him. To see how his life has developed despite the tragedy
that unfolded right in front of his eight year old eyes makes me feel proud. I
looked at him last night and thought about the fact that he was the same age as
my eight year old daughter when his life tragically changed. I realised just
how strong he really is even though he may not realise it to have survived such
a tragedy and made something of his life.
Family – as I looked around at the gathering of four
generations of our clan, my heart swelled with pride mixed with awe. What a
great reminder of the place we come from. The foundation that weaves our
experiences together. The nucleus that shows us how very different we are as
humans yet share the same cloth. I am so happy we started the New Year off as a
family. Everyone coming together. Lives totally different from the other. Experiences
and challenges totally different from the other. But still we are bound by the
same genetic coding. Reminding me that every person we encounter is a part of
us and no matter the differences, we are all interconnected. One big human
family. Here’s to family in 2012.
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