What is family?

What is a family? I once saw a sign up sheet for a potluck with the term “family of one”. How can you be a family of one? I guess it’s possible, for bringing food to a potluck, but really? I can’t imagine what it would be like without my family. My husband. My children. My grandchildren. I’m also talking about the family I was born into; my parents who are now gone, and siblings. We siblings are getting older and one day, we will say goodbye. I don’t like to think about that and often deny that I will, but know it is in the future.

 

We shared our past, talked about our future.

We had a sibling rendezvous last weekend. We spent four nights together, sharing meals, playing dominoes—our favorite game to play and chat together–with long talks about our past, our future.

Front row: Joyce (husband, Dick, behind her), Roger (wife, Lexie, behind), Shirley (husband, Jim, behind), Eileen, Betsy (husband, Lyle, not present).

 

They accept me as I am.

With the exception of Jim, I feel safest with my siblings. Just like my husband, they accept me for me—no matter what. They might not agree with me. They may even strongly disagree with my choices—relationally or politically, but they still accept me as I am.

I cherish our family get-togethers.

I cherish our sibling get-togethers. Where we accept each other unquestioningly. We remember long family road trips from our Portland home to the midwest where our extended family lived. The four oldest divided the back seat in half, Joyce and I on one side, Roger and Eileen on the other. Betsy was up front, because she was the baby. There was her long-awaited birth, waiting for Dad to pull into the driveway so he could tell us if we had a brother or sister. We remember different people from our past, food we loved, friendships we had. I remember my brother teasing me unmercifully—which helped me cope later on with things challenging.

 

We laughed at each other’s remembrance comfortably.

This year we  celebrated Eileen’s birthday. Each of us described an event about the two of us and she had to tell us where and what happened. She filled in the blanks. We laughed at each other’s remembrance comfortably. That’s sibling love.

There was birthday cake for the birthday girl.

Happy birthday!

Best of all, we were together.

We ate. We sipped wine. We played dominoes. We laughed and cried. We prayed. Even read poetry.  Best of all, we were together. That’s family.

 

What are your memories?

What memories do you have of your family? Are there ones you want to recall? Are they loving ones, yet honest with real conflict that happens in every family and relationship? Let me know! I’d like to hear your story.

The Quiring Five a few years earlier