This time last year, I was done with them. Sure there were people in my family that I liked. But the outdated idea of familial obligations? No way. You hurt me, so I don’t need you. You don’t understand me, won’t even try, so I won’t be trying to undertand you. Who needs to be tied to these people just because we share dna? I would deal with them on an individual basis, keep the ones I liked and leave the ones who didn’t like me.
That changed though. One just-missed phone call – one desparate, awful voicemail that slammed into me like a brick wall on a mild February morning – and you were looking at an unrecognizable daughter. My stepmother, my dads wife, had been in a car accident. A bad one. It was very possible that she could die. Within minutes, my mindscape was altered where I kept thoughts of my family. Any anger, hurt, resentment that had been there before were gone. Given the boot. Kicked out. I just had to get there and be with my dad. Had to be there for my family.
She could die – I wasn’t ready to think about that yet – it would be days before I was able to process that thought. Days later, when that imminent danger was past, I would read an article that described her injuries as life threatening, and I would breakdown and cry inconsolably and then not get out of bed for two days.
I never would have believed that Cathy didn’t know how much I loved her, but it just about broke my heart that she was surprised to see me visiting her, when she heard how devastated I was by what was happening to her. And I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that I never let an opportunity pass without letting her know how much she means to me.
It’s been two months since Grandpa Fred died. He was here from Prince Edward Island for a vacation. He’d been here a week, and there was a barbecue at Dad’s house. It was the day before I was going to go over and visit and I was looking forward to a 3 hour gin-rummy marathon, chain-smoking and second hand smoking and drinking brandy with him. It’s one of those things we do atleast once every visit. And I never got my card-playing, smokin and drinkin visit with Fred this year and I’ll never have it again. Because there was a fluke accident that took him away from us despite the fact that he was healthy as a horse and he should have lived to be 103 or older, not just 83.
The 5 days my dad, brother, uncle and I spent in Prince Edward Island after Fred died was awful. But it was also really great, in a strange way. If I could trade that week in for having Fred back I absolutely would, but that’s what perspective is about. Can you see the wonderful in the awful? We learned about our family, we learned about Fred, we learned about each other. I got to talk to my brother – one of my absolute favourite people on the planet – every day. I got to spend time with my dad, talking with him, helping him and making him laugh like we haven’t done since I was a teenager. I got to be kept up till 2 in the morning because my brother and dad just kept talking and talking and talking.
When bad stuff – really bad stuff – happens, it makes normal everyday problems and issues look different. They don’t go away, but they become smaller in the grand scheme of things. And when you get through those really bad things and come out the other side, your view of the world and of life is different. I used to roll my eyes at played out cliches like ‘Family is everything.’ I don’t scoff any more. And I don’t think it’s a played out cliche anymore. When people in movies or on TV say ‘My family is everything to me’ or ‘Family comes first,’ I get that. I get choked up by that feeling just like normal people. I think that to a great degree, family is what you make it. What you give, you get back tenfold atleast. But regardless of what you give, there’s something nice about knowing the foundation is there. The history is there. They know you. You know them. As an adult, we have the option of loving our family as though we chose them – because we have the option of choosing to love them. We have the option of accepting them as they are, whether they return the favour or not, all the while keeping the faith that they will.
It took me more than a month to finish this post, and now the holiday season is upon us. The holidays are the time for families to come together and celebrate, close out the year and give thanks for all the blessings. It’s easy to focus on all the bad things that happen but the change in my family and my perspective on my family is something I’m very grateful for! And so you know it means something for me to say Hope the Holidays are great for you and your family!
Kristin, this is lovely. It brought tears to my eyes.
It is beautiful, it is true and I love you.
Kristin.
This is very sincere and beautiful.You are a very special lady.I can tell that almost losing Cathy and losing uncle Fred have made you grow to be a much more loving and caring person.
i was happy to meet you and Matt and in those few daAll the best to you both in the coming year
ys i felt like i always knew both of you
lov e Bridget
I miss uncle fred a lot,
It’s beautifully written Kristin. Love you,
Dad.