Finding Family

My niece’s fiancé texted me this morning under our family name. It gave me a good feeling. Their wedding is set for late this year.

She is a wonderful woman, brilliant and talented. She is a most welcome addition to our family. In fact, a boost.

For some reason, later, I thought of family. It brought tears to my eyes, not the grieving kind of tears, but a combination kind. I think maybe tears are like Alaskan snow, 40 different varieties, depending on ideological consistency.

My wife was my family. She would proclaim, “It’s us three girls against the world.” The third being our dog. It wasn’t that we didn’t have a biological family, although there was an issue. Most of her immediate family had rejected her. My immediate family accepted us. We just had nothing in common with any of them.

Following the death of my wife, I am fortunate to have been “adopted” by two wonderful families. My wife’s first caretaker has taken me in. It isn’t that she doesn't have plenty to keep her occupied, she and her husband are just that kind of people. She brings me food, whether I need it or not. They keep in contact with me to ensure I am OK. They both help when I can’t do things myself, like bring the boat ashore for winter. They are warm and wonderful people.

My neighbor, when word came that my wife had died, immediately let me know I was to come to their house for Thanksgiving. That expanded into my “dropping over” for visits and sharing laughter and stories of my wife (whom they adored) and ongoing events. It also expanded into other holidays and events.

Once strangers, these wonderful people took me in, made me feel cherished, made me feel included.

My friend, my editor, has recently come into my life. She loved my wife and I when we were neighbors. I wouldn't let her visit during my wife’s illness. I wanted her to remember my wife how she was, vibrant and energetic. We have a lot in common and make each other laugh. We both need to do that.

My cousin, who I consider my younger sister, contacted me a few years ago. We keep in touch and understand each other. We are family. She is to come to me if she ever gets into trouble.

My biological niece, actually my grand-niece, found me last year. She had just come out and became engaged to a wonderful woman.

I consider all of these newcomers, and “old-comers” my family, even though they don’t live in my house.

These upcoming families have tendrils, children, grandchildren, one awesome mother. That will take some getting used to.

According to Webster, family includes lineage, and also a group of similar or related things.

I guess my new family provides both.

What family means to me is much more.

Family means someone cares about you.

Family means someone can be called upon in time of need.

Family means you understand each other.

Family means you have common language and meaning.

Family means you have similar standards, morals, expectations and beliefs.

Family means you accept responsibility as your actions affect each other.

Family means unity, what affects one, affects all.

Family means your name is out there, you can’t really hide.

Family means you are a unit that contributes to society.

It is terrible to have no one to care. It encompasses the quiet house, the purpose in life, the endless time and a search for a herd.

My wife cared for me for almost 50 years. Then her brain was destroyed by illness. It wasn’t that she wasn’t still caring. She treated me and all with which she came into contact with respect and dignity. It just wasn’t personalized special caring. She insisted the house be locked up when dusk was approaching and that all blinds be down, which drove me to distraction. I told her we couldn’t live in a cave. She was ensuring we were safe. She didn’t want anyone else other than me in the house at that time. She didn’t recognize anyone and consequently, didn’t consider them safe. Others had to be out of the house by 4 PM. She was taking care of us.

I couldn’t keep her safe. I couldn't keep the disease from progressing. I couldn’t stop caring after her death.

I think she would be pleased I have a new family, who cares and that I care about.

Re-entering life with his new family of mine entails expansion. My wife and I were a small unit. Our actions bespoke our beliefs. I believe we were a positive factor in the world, but we kept pretty much to ourselves.

Now, in this new family, the exchange for caring means a group, which I inevitably will be monitoring. Of course, I will have to extend myself, not just observe.

This new family is going to have to embed itself in my head.

We all have a lot of learning to do. It is a relief that the selfish ones belong to different families.

Let me know how you are doing. I care.

Contemplations: Embrace family.

Sincerely,

Lynn Brooke

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Photo Credit: © 2023 Rachel Gareau