Appreciating Loved Ones

I just got back from a quick visit with siblings in Ontario. It’s been more than a couple of years, and as usual, sitting with my siblings can get me thinking.

There were five of us together for a few days, I flew out to surprise my oldest sister for her birthday. Chatted with her Thursday from home on her actual birthday, where she said she wanted a piece of the carrot cake that I was making for Winney’s birthday (which is the same day), so I told her I would mail out a piece.

Hopped on the plane the next day, and walked out of the kitchen of the restaurant where she was getting a birthday dinner from my brother and two sisters (which was already a surprise). I was expecting a few F-bombs (and was nervous for the young families eating at the next table), but all I got when she saw me was a stare.

Nothing. No reaction. No gears clunking back there. Totally speechless. I was starting to worry about what to do next, actually.

So I guess the surprise worked, but that’s not really what this blog is about.

Given that as a family we’re split between Southern Ontario and BC, we don’t manage to get together all that often. Last time we were all together was over two years ago at my sister’s funeral, and I’m pretty sure that I haven’t been back since (though there is some debate about that). When we do, I find that there is the requisite catching up with what everyone has been up to, the idle chat about current events, and there are the discussions about our family.

Growing up as 8 kids that span about 20 years in age, we’ve all got our own windows into the memories of the past and the family dynamics. As we took turns moving out of the house, each of our lives took us in different directions, further biasing our perspectives and beliefs and memories in all kinds of ways. Even when we were living at home we weren’t all privy to all the events, and there were times when we were too young to even notice things when they did happen.

With our average age over 55 now as siblings, we’re showing that age to varying degrees. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt chipper after a squash match, and it’s the kids and nieces and nephews and grandkids that have to carry on with the jubilant play in the parks and arenas. In the end, time and gravity can be tough foes. As such, much of our get togethers are centred around a few drinks, perhaps some card games, lively banter, and those discussions about the family.

I always find out new things about distant relatives – the ones that I can recall the names but not the faces. Interesting, but not really going to change my perspective on things, because most of my relatives that we talk about were a generation or two older in age, attitudes, culture. Might as well be talking about another species (but please don’t stop the stories…).

What happened in our family, though, is always an eye opener. Growing up, my perception was that even though my parents raised eight kids, we were never wanting for food on the table or for gifts under the Christmas tree. Turns out there was indeed at least one year when I was young where things were so tight that we were the recipients of a community basket. A few other things from that time period always come to the surface, but that one stood out this time around.

I really like the fact that when we do get together as family like this, despite how we have each grown and moved on in our own directions (or maybe because of that), we can get together and put aside all those things and quickly become the family again. We fall back into our old roles, re-explore those simpler times (that in retrospect only appeared simpler to those younger perspectives), learn a little more about each other. The spouses seem to come along for the ride with varying degrees of engagement, which could be an interesting study in itself.

Maybe it is because we’ve lost both our parents and a sister already, but there is an appreciation for one another that I really enjoy. Makes me kinda sad for families that can’t get along, where there is some baggage between them that prevents them from enjoying one another’s company. We’re not a perfect bunch, by any means, but given the variety of our life-paths and perspectives (and yes, generations), I think we do a damned fine job for the most part.

We don’t get together enough as a family. Or maybe we do it just enough to continue to appreciate one another. Dinner Saturday night, together all day Sunday and most of us again on Monday, it’s already over and I already miss them.

As my oldest sister backed out of the driveway on Monday night and I wandered back into the house and out of the cold, I couldn’t help but think that this might have been the last time we see each other. Not that I’m expecting either of us to drop today, we’ve both got plenty of piss ‘n vinegar for a few more decades. It’s just that we’re all busy with what’s in our face on a daily basis, so much so that we often fail to appreciate what we have, and the time together with siblings always seems to be so damned hard to organize.

Our time together is precious. We always need to remember that it should be precious with the ones we have chosen to be with daily, and look past how we can so easily get under each other’s skin.

I step away from this weekend’s trip with a love for my siblings, and an awareness that I need to carry more of what we had this weekend back into how I deal with my family, back here at home. Time to go give my wife a big hug.

Right now, I’m tugging my ear like Carol Burnett used to do at the end of her shows. I’m so glad we had this time together…