Family

November 21, 2005 - 12:00am -- swingbug

Family. It's an interesting...reality. I was about say "an interesting concept" but "concept" doesn't cut it, does it? No. Concepts have bounds and logic and concise little ideas that can be summarized up in an abstract. The idea of family may have these things, but the reality of family is just what it is. Chuck your standard societal rules at the door. Shed your precepts and hang them up next to your coat on the rack. We operate on our own gravity here.

What are we bound by, this group of people? Blood and marriage? There's a bit of that, but it boils down to more than, "She gets that from Grandma." Trials and tribulations? Laughter and tears? There's a bit of that too. Mostly it's undefinable. Here we are sitting around the table, a group of people who know each other so well that sometimes--often--that understanding blinds itself, like how staring too long at the sun leaves dark spots in your vision.

This inconcise blob that binds us together... It's how I can sit down on the airplane next to my cousin who I haven't seen in months and pick up right where we left off, chatting away. As the stewardess hands my cousin his drink, she asks, "And where are you headed off to?"  

"A family reunion," he says.

"Ah." She looks from him to me. "Brother and sister."

"Cousins," we say together.


Do we look alike? Funny, I've never thought about it. That's another thing about family. With the people with whom you share so much in common, you forget to look for your obvious similarities and dig for your differences.

Conversations aren't the only thing that pick up right where they left off. Those jokes that never get old. That mistake you made 15 years ago. That funny nickname. Those giggle fits over nothing. That look from across the room that says, "Oh boy, here we go again," citing a dozen past instances in a glance. Time has no meaning in the realm of family. Nothing is ever forgotten. To those who knew you when you were 15, you will forever be 15. And at the same moment the babies look at you as an adult on par with the family elders. It's dizzying. You are everything you were, everything you are, and everything you ever could be standing together in the same spot. And 90% of it is probably in your head. Like Yoda said to Luke as he approached the dark place and asked what's in there, "Only what you take with you." So we strap on the baggage and trudge in.

Just shake your head and smile. It's the best way to approach it. If you can manage it.

The family reunion. Lots of laughter. A few tears. Some hugs. A couple of tense moments. Swing the baby cousins around so they squeal and laugh. Pick them up and rock them to sleep when they've had enough and they're cranky. All with the knowledge that someone has picked you up before, literally and figuratively, and they will do so again. Family. Round and round. That's how it works.

Watching my family clustered around small tables, clapping along with the rhythm of life. Some smiles. Some frowns. The connection's there nonetheless, running back to the beginning of time. We'll laugh together, cry together, worry about each other, comfort each other, and piss each other off. And then we'll do it all again.

We're family. And this is reality. In the end it doesn't matter why it works. It just does.

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