Connections

People are herd animals. Yes, there are degrees, based on personality, culture, neurosis, etc., that determine just how social we tend to be, and of course there are exceptions (the monk in a cave, etc), but on the whole, we seek the companionship, support, influence and comfort of being with other people. One of the weirdest connections we have with each other has got to be familial. Now, I am a firm believer that we make our own families as we go out into the world, but the blood connection is a persistent one, for better or worse, and is, I believe fairly underestimated in the modern world. Who else but family can cause us such angst, insecurity and craziness on the one hand, while also instilling such feelings of belonging, joy and the empathy that can only come from everyone understanding Aunt Mildred's "condition"?

Ah, context..let's see, how to distill this piece without losing the more interesting  aspects. I was raised an only child of a single mother. That dynamic was all I knew, all I understood. Yes, I had a father, but he and my Mom split before I was two and I rarely saw him. In fact, I can count on one hand how many times I remember seeing him before I was 18. This situation is, unfortunately, far from unusual as my Mom did what most single parents do; she forged on. If my father-daughter story ended there, this would be a very short post.

My father: a merchant seaman, handsome, charming, witty, smart, irresponsible, afraid, thoughtless, likable, adventurous, broken. It is hardly possible to fully describe a person with words (especially a person I didn't know well) so I caveat all I say with the understanding that there is infinitely more, but also that this post isn't ultimately about him. He also had a way with women. To keep a ridiculously long story shorter, let's just cut to the fact that I have three half-siblings. I am the eldest, followed by my brother Mike, sister Shannon and youngest brother Malcolm. We are the products of my Father and three different women. Recently my sister got married and she generously and boldly invited me to attend.

Upon accepting the invitation I sat down and tried to remember the last time I saw any of the others. As close as I can tell it had been between 25-30 years since I had seen Mike and Shan and, except for a brief interaction at a funeral, I hadn't seen my "baby" bro since 1991. I remember growing up that whenever  my paternal grandmother would mention my "brothers" or "sister" I felt awkward, like it just didn't feel natural; siblings were supposed to know each other by more than reputation or in a passing conversation...Saying yes to the wedding invitation might prove to be more than any of us bargained for, but I strode forward.

The wedding was gorgeous and the

reunion of sibs fantastic. Was it without its odd moments? Of course

not. We are four people who have never been together before, thrust into what was already an emotional event. The other three know each other quite well and were raised at least in each others' lives. I am the odd duck in this pond in that I hardly know any of them. They have a shared understanding of our father to which I can never relate just as they may not be able to relate to my experiences with him. We each brought our own brand of hurt feelings, insecurities, protectiveness, and preconceptions with regard to our family, our father and each other to this particular party. I for one was surprised by: 1) How there are still some sensitive spots in my soul about my father and siblings, and 2) How much I was able to just laugh off as idiosyncrasies run amok (demonstrated by people other than my siblings).  The most important part of that weekend for me was being with family. I never knew how much I longed for that connection since both parents and all grandparents had died. Even with regard to my father, I always took some comfort in the idea that he was out there somewhere and therefore so was the possibility of reconnecting. With his passing, the last few years I felt like an orphan. Now I have seen firsthand more people who have similar physical characteristics. I loved learning more about my sibs and their lives/families. I was happily surprised to see we share a similar sense of humor. I like these new connections that seem to be trying to form between us.

The reality of my reunion with these siblings is that I have no idea where or if it will go. It is truly possible that we may only remain FaceBook friends and never get together again. We mostly live quite far from each other (CA, NM, ME) and that geographic distance can be tough on any new relationship. On the other hand, it could be the beginning of something grand; a healing, a discovery and a coming together of people who are connected, even if delicately. Of course if we do move forward together I would imagine that our relationships will get more complicated (as any other family) and the true test of how strong our connections are will be successfully navigating whatever maelstroms we meet (or create) along the way. The potential for success, however, is enough to keep me on board.

So on this Father's Day I will say to my own father: Rest in peace Mac. I am not sure it could have happened when you were alive, but I know that the four of us together would have thrilled you no end.... and I think we enjoyed it too :)  Love Always.