Tuesday, January 21, 2020

Six


I come from a family of six. That's a fact I've known all my conscious life -- for I am the sixth of that six. We were only all under one roof for ten-or-so years but during that time, certain patterns were set. Most nights for dinner (at 6:30 pm), we all-six sat around the dining room table -- Dad at one end, Mom at the other, Karen and Julie on one side, John and I on the other. For car rides, the elder three sat in the back (and fought over who had to sit on "the hump" in the middle), while I got wedged upfront between Mom and Dad. 

It's been forty years since we lived in that configuration. We kids all grew up and moved out, though a couple of us did move back a time or two. We added boyfriends/girlfriends/spouses/children to the mix. There was always change but it seemed gradual, just a natural part of life. And it most always involved expansion of our family -- adding on, not subtracting. 

I'd not given it all that much thought in many years, to be honest. I had a unique relationship with each of my nuclear family members and thought primarily in terms of our subgroups. But those five -- they were my original tribe. My pack. The basis and foundation for my understanding of family and of love. 

Even as my Dad was declining and the rest of us were communicating frequently and coming together to spend time with him and support my Mom, I gave little thought to our number. Not until I was putting together the photo collage for Dad's visitation did it occur to me -- that we were no longer six. And as we said our final goodbye to my Dad during his service and I wrapped my arms around my brother, my sisters, and my Mom, my heart ached with the full import of that.

My sisters and I took my Mom out to a movie tonight -- thought it would be good to get out for a bit. We went to see "Little Women." It was a lovely, sweet movie, featuring, of course, a family of six -- who then lose one of their own. 

The story would be sad and bittersweet regardless but it hit extra close to home this evening. A precious reminder of how profoundly we are shaped by our nuclear family and how blessed I am to be the sixth of the six.

We are no longer six -- at least not on this plane. But we will always be six -- my pack and I.