There is nothing like a death in the family to realign priorities. It's like being in free fall, hoping to land on your feet without breaking something. Then again, a death in the family can be as low key as slow dancing, not stepping on others feet. It depends on the strength of the bond. Still, by any measure you sense a transition and grapple with fate, even if just for a moment. For several generations I have made the distinction between ‘Blood’ family and those who slip in by the ‘Backdoor’. The blood bond is inherent, fixed in time and space before we were born. It provides a pedigree for as long as shared DNA stirs in the gene pool. On the other hand, family bonds that slip in by the 'Backdoor' are acquired. They require only mutual respect and affection and in lieu of a pedigree they need to be nurtured.
When I was maybe 7 or 8, my infant cousin died suddenly in an accident. I didn’t fully understand the far reaching disorder it created but neither could I escape the consuming grief and the weight of such a loss. It was a helpless feeling. It would take years and a wider, deeper experience before my father’s words came home to me: “Blood is thicker than water.” and he was right, it is. Then, when I was 34 (1973) I moved my family from Colorado to Michigan. With three little boys and a daughter on the way it truly was a new beginning. In that first fall season I worked a new job in a nearby town. My wife met and made friends with a woman down the street who had a toddler and a newborn baby girl. Her husband was a local pharmacist and the women bonded through the burden of husbands who worked long hours and managing small children who seemed always underfoot.
You know that you share the ‘Backdoor’ bond when half a dozen children lose track of which grownups are their parents and assimilate into a single litter. We didn’t think much of it at the time but our kids understood the aspect of acquired respect and affection and extended it to authority as well. If Jeanette or my wife told one of them, “Stop that right now or I’ll skin you alive.” it didn’t matter who it was or where we were; you were in her jurisdiction. It didn’t matter whose ‘Ouchie’ needed first aid, the kid went instinctively to the nearest adult. Any doubts as to ‘Backdoor’ or just neighbors, watch the kids. They respond to ‘Backdoor Principle’ long before they understand their pedigree.
Yesterday early, my phone rang. It was one of my little girls by the ‘Backdoor’. As we age, unexpected telephone calls at strange hours tend to bring bad news and I didn’t have to be told. We lost her pharmacist dad to cancer over 20 years before and the ‘Backdoor’ bond got a little tighter. Jeanette had been losing ground to a grave illness for several years and this phone call was the bad news. When we lose someone we love, we close ranks. Today my Blood family is changing plans, making travel arrangements and beginning to close ranks.
In a few days we will be in West Michigan again. There will be many others doing the same thing, saying “Goodbye”, saying “I’m sorry,” asking "Is there something I can do?" Our small part in this ritual is to make real the axiom; “Joy shared is joy multiplied.” and “Sorrow shared is sorrow halved.” There is something to be said for proximity, meeting our own need to simply be there. We will take comfort there as well. Then the sun will come up on a new day and we will treasure even more than before, the joy we still share. Life is short, eat dessert first.
When I was maybe 7 or 8, my infant cousin died suddenly in an accident. I didn’t fully understand the far reaching disorder it created but neither could I escape the consuming grief and the weight of such a loss. It was a helpless feeling. It would take years and a wider, deeper experience before my father’s words came home to me: “Blood is thicker than water.” and he was right, it is. Then, when I was 34 (1973) I moved my family from Colorado to Michigan. With three little boys and a daughter on the way it truly was a new beginning. In that first fall season I worked a new job in a nearby town. My wife met and made friends with a woman down the street who had a toddler and a newborn baby girl. Her husband was a local pharmacist and the women bonded through the burden of husbands who worked long hours and managing small children who seemed always underfoot.
You know that you share the ‘Backdoor’ bond when half a dozen children lose track of which grownups are their parents and assimilate into a single litter. We didn’t think much of it at the time but our kids understood the aspect of acquired respect and affection and extended it to authority as well. If Jeanette or my wife told one of them, “Stop that right now or I’ll skin you alive.” it didn’t matter who it was or where we were; you were in her jurisdiction. It didn’t matter whose ‘Ouchie’ needed first aid, the kid went instinctively to the nearest adult. Any doubts as to ‘Backdoor’ or just neighbors, watch the kids. They respond to ‘Backdoor Principle’ long before they understand their pedigree.
Yesterday early, my phone rang. It was one of my little girls by the ‘Backdoor’. As we age, unexpected telephone calls at strange hours tend to bring bad news and I didn’t have to be told. We lost her pharmacist dad to cancer over 20 years before and the ‘Backdoor’ bond got a little tighter. Jeanette had been losing ground to a grave illness for several years and this phone call was the bad news. When we lose someone we love, we close ranks. Today my Blood family is changing plans, making travel arrangements and beginning to close ranks.
In a few days we will be in West Michigan again. There will be many others doing the same thing, saying “Goodbye”, saying “I’m sorry,” asking "Is there something I can do?" Our small part in this ritual is to make real the axiom; “Joy shared is joy multiplied.” and “Sorrow shared is sorrow halved.” There is something to be said for proximity, meeting our own need to simply be there. We will take comfort there as well. Then the sun will come up on a new day and we will treasure even more than before, the joy we still share. Life is short, eat dessert first.
No comments:
Post a Comment