Families are hard work. Whether they’re the ones you’re born into, the ones you marry into, or the ones you grow along the way, the roads are full of bumps and bruises, tears and hurt feelings, temper tantrums, secrets and exasperation. Of course, they’re balanced by – and hopefully tipped in favour of – sweet memories and raucous laughter, sticky fingers and kisses, stolen glances shared moments and celebrations.
I grew up in a very small family. My parents were immigrants from the UK, so every time we sat down for dinner it was a family reunion. But even back in England, I only ever remember having one set of grandparents, one aunt, one uncle, one girl cousin and one boy cousin. We were – and still are – a “stiff upper lip” kind of family. We don’t emote, we don’t share “unnecessarily”, we don’t want to worry others. But it also means we don’t show affection easily and even though we know we love each other, people from other families might find us cold.
I was sometimes envious of my friends growing up. They had grandparents at hand to spoil them, cousins to play with and huge gatherings for holidays. But they also had family feuds. We had just us. Not that I’m complaining. Our family ran a little more – well, steady, I guess you could say. But to have a bigger sense of extended family, my parents built a community of other expats around them. We had such a houseful of guests every year on Boxing Day, after everyone had their own small family gathering the day before, that my mother ended up having to cook two turkeys.
And because our parents had gone far from home, my brother and I thought nothing of moving fair distances away. Me to the big city, where jobs in my field were plenty and my brother out west, chasing dreams I didn’t quite understand. We’ve never been close, my brother and me. We’ve been on different wavelengths almost our whole lives and have both done our fair share of hurting each other. Mostly, we’re on good terms in recent years, but I sometimes sadly think the security of distance helps keep us that way.
In my 20s, I married into a big family. It was a family bursting with emotions – that I had to learn to navigate. There were sisters and aunts, cousins and second cousins (I didn’t even really know what that meant!). They had feelings – oh did they have feelings – big ones, and everyone knew it. There were great arguments, tempered with great love. It was uncomfortable for me, learning how to deal with these great crashing waves of hot and cold feelings in the early years, and I didn’t quiet know how to interpret it all. I could no more understand this week’s shunned family member than I could the embraces and kisses of a relative I had only just met. It got easier with experience and time, but visits were always something I had to gear myself up for.
When my kids came along, I could swear something physical changed inside me that made me feel things more. I would have done anything – and still would – for those three wonderful little terrors! They somehow simultaneously drove me crazy and made my heart sing at the same time. I made a point of being more affectionate with my kids, and with their Dad, than I remember mine being. But divorce hit us, so they may not remember much of that.
Friend groups – those families you grow along the way – can also be torn apart by arguments, and these are often unmended, without the invisible bonds of family to force them back together to define a truce. I’ve seen more than one unfortunate “divorce” in a group of friends, where words were spoken that couldn’t be unspoken, leaving two members to be unable to continue to be sociable with each other. One of two things happens – either one gets shut out, or the other members do backflips to socialize with each hurt and offended party separately. Neither are great ends. And a real-life divorce can sometimes leave you at odds with a group of friends, if they are all married couples. I slowly slipped away from some friends after mine, when our suddenly odd numbers became awkward.
The death of my children’s father this spring has meant even more complicated – and highly emotional – broader family moments as we’ve sorted through – or at least tried to – who is responsible for what in the aftermath. It hasn’t been easy for anyone. Me, the kids, his sisters. This is not the place to go into details but let me at least include one public service announcement: do not forget to update your will after a major life event. We’ll work through this, as all families do but it’s certainly picked at the edges of old wounds and left bruised feelings.
So back to the beginning. Families are hard. In any shape. But I think they’re worth fighting for. The sting of the occasional jab or the tears of a misplaced word are brushed away by the security, the sense of place and the joy of hugs and kisses when families get together, even if it’s infrequently.
Families forever!
