For the past week I've been enjoying my family. Even that statement carries with it an assortment of emotions...because in every person, every relationship that remains intact, there is this looooooong history of drama, laughter, nostalgia, storytelling, loss and survival. In every pair of eyes there is a connection to every other pair of eyes that has ever (family-wise) looked into mine.
To grossly understate the truth, we've all been through a lot. Personally, and collectively. We've endured the passing of some dearly beloved members, through death...and simple stubborn pride. Sometimes we can talk about these things and sometimes we can't. But when we all spend time together, I'm reminded of parts of myself that I have either forgotten or intentionally blocked out. I don't think I ever imagined our lives and relationships being exactly as they are today, but in spite of this short-sightedness, I'm immensely grateful that things have turned out the way they have, and that those of us who remain, remain close and accept each other "as is." That's pretty freakin' miraculous.
I have struggled in the past few days to find words to adequately describe the overwhelming pride and love I'm feeling at the birth of my great-nephew Tyler. I've bailed on weak attempts because while I've always loved to write, I simply don't have the incredible gift of creating transcendent odes to people (new and old) that my niece Becky has. In fact, I'm quite sure that the tangents you're about to endure will make you want to hurt me.
Part of the intense emotion I've been experiencing with Molly's pregnancy and ultimately the birth of little Tyler (who is, by the way, the most perfect and exceptional child the planet has ever yet seen) has been the overwhelming sensation of being a witness to the repetition of the cycle of life. I remember Becky, and then Molly, as they were little bitty creatures...they made me an aunt at age 9 and age 13, respectively...and since they arrived before anyone else on the niece/nephew horizon, they hold a unique place in my heart's memories. Prior to their debuts I had already been very close to their dad, big Tyler. (I'm told my first words, in fact, were "Hi, Ty." ...which indicates to me he probably loved me a lot and spent a lot of time with me when I myself was but a wee tyke.) And their mom was a huge part of my life since we were cheerleader and mascot together at Abilene High in '72. I was 5. She was the big sister I would never have otherwise had...she took me to movies (the drive-in!), the park, and even to her shorthand class after pep rallies. (Maybe this is why I ended up working in law firms?!?) And Tyler always took the protective big brother role way above and beyond. Once when I was 16 I rear-ended a guy in my mom's Cadillac. No damage to my mom's car, but the guy made a claim on his tail light that was cracked approximately 1/4" . Knowing that the repercussions would be steep, Tyler paid the guy about $115 for the damages, which equalled about a million dollars to me back then. And my parents never knew, which was worth even more than a million dollars.
So to say the least, because their parents were so incredibly cool to me, Becky and Molly were very special from the beginning, more like little sisters than nieces. I started baby-sitting when I was about 11, and kept at it until we moved to Albany when I was 16. I spent a lot of time refereeing their arguments, taking them to Baskin Robbins for mint chocolate chip cones, refereeing their arguments, trying to keep them from killing each other and destroying the house, fielding their unreasonable demands as reasonably as possible, refereeing their arguments, joining in their arguments, playing games with them, watching silly movies and TV shows and acting and singing the best parts. We grew up together. And because I was a little older I'm sure I remember things they can't possibly remember, since their memories probably don't go back that far.
They've known me through the best and worst times of my life...seen me make some pretty big mistakes, and some pretty strange decisions, and live with the consequences. And though I would imagine I'm probably at least something of a disappointment to them, they seem to love me anyway, just the way I am. On the other side, I have seen them go through some pretty intense life challenges and not only survive, but thrive. They're stronger because of the obstacles they've faced and overcome. They're closer as sisters and appreciate their common history. They've somehow become women...right before my eyes. Women I look up to, admire and deeply respect.
As I watch Becky with her first nephew I see myself when I first met her, when she was all new and wrinkly and red. She's already a pro at Aunthood. As I watch Molly with her son I am completely awed by how naturally she's handling this supernatural life-changing event. I'm so happy I have them here, to continue to teach me as I age, to humble me, to encourage me...
It's good to be grateful for the family you have. It may not be traditional; it may not look like anyone else's. But it's mine, and it's beautiful. And as Big Tyler so poignantly put it this week, "I like additions better than minuses."
Passion
