My dad still insists on carrying the heavy boxes for me. My mother reaches for the bowls on the top shelf of the cupboard because they are “too high” for me.
“Here, let me take that for you.”
“Let me get that for you.”
I am stronger and taller than they are and I am 51 years old, but their actions seem natural. After all, I am still their child; my childhood is still dynamic. I understand. I catch myself doing the same for my own grown sons. But it is okay; it is what family is all about. By example and precept, we learn empathy, understanding, compassion, and how to nurture and respect others, as well as ourselves. In other words, we are learning how to love— and we are never too old for that.
I quote my mother a lot. I talk about my dad, my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and especially my own sons and their families. At family gatherings we share THE STORIES. You know the ones—THE FAMILY stories—personal, intimate—that tie us together. Within the telling comes new perspectives reflected in the hearts present, making possible the healing of childhood fears, worries, and hurts. We laugh; we cry. We feel safe, accepted in that kind of openness. I’m reminded of the observation of a Bloom County comic strip character. “It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.”
Ideally, family is where we are Seen and Heard, and Unconditionally Loved. It has also been my experience that increased distances, whether physical or emotional, does not extinguish the desire for healthy family-type relationships. My church, neighborhood, community, and friends help me redefine, rebuild, and expand my sense of family.
Those of us in our middle age have a unique privilege of moving freely and intimately within four, sometimes five generations of family. Access to generational perspectives and experiences offers deeper roots, a better understanding of where we’ve been, where we are, and where were are going. It’s like a ladder that we can climb to see higher and farther, to see where we belong.
We consult our elders for their strength of years, experience and wisdom. We learn computer skills from our grandchildren. Watching my grandparents and now my parents decline with age is showing me how to accept my own aches and pains, gray hair and wrinkles.
However, it is through the eyes of our children and grandchildren that we feel and accept the beauty and privileges of our own maturity. We are part of them; they are part of us
I do not fear a future emerging from our community’s youth. I am astounded by the spirit and talent of our young people, and the adults who cheer them on. Our church youth programs, scouting, Big Brothers and Sisters, Young Musicians, Young Authors, community sports, etc., all show me a “family” at work.
Whether we’re cheering at a Little League game, attending a summer concert or a Fourth of July parade, reading a poem written by a sixth-grader from down the street, or lifting a 3-year-old neighbor up to see the robin eggs in the nest in your apple tree, we all need each other. We are a family. That’s powerful stuff.
