Abscess makes the heart grow fungus

The last few years I have thought more and more about the distance my small family lives from the rest of our extended relations.  I was born, and for my first four years lived, in southern Ontario.  My wife was born here in Alberta, but only shortly after her parents also moved from Ontario.  Unknown to either one of us for the longest time, most of the people we're related to live within four hours of each other, but way the hell and gone on the other side of the country.

The poignancy of this was driven home last spring went Amy and I took our then one year-old on a road show out east, ostensibly to celebrate the 80th birthday of my maternal grandmother, which party consumed only a couple days of the two weeks we spent.  The rest of our time was divided between the balance of my relations and my wife's, imposing on relatives who welcomed us with open arms and pantries.  (The "R" is very important in that last word.)

Until then, I had always asserted that I had been content - preferred, even - to be raised three provinces away from the place of my birth.  We made at least annual pilgrimages back to the homestead for the first decade or so, my mother going so far as to ship my brother and me off alone for the summer a couple times.  As we got older the trips decreased in frequency, and there was one stretch where it was five years I went without seeing anybody but my parents and brother with whom I shared blood.

Every family has a set of quirks that are unique to it, or seem to be when viewed from the inside.  Seeing those from a distance, I was just as happy to be separated from them and raised away from the 'corruptive' influence of some of my crazier family members.  That was my thinking at the time.  I come from a very traditional German Catholic stock, and my vigorous religious ambivalence would not have gone over very well so much closer to the hub.  I have an aunt who for the longest time (she may still) claimed to be under the protection of the Shield of Christ.

I grew up a proud Westerner; I have a neck that's managed to avoid most of the ruddy pigmentation so prevalent 'round these here parts, but neither have I been immune to the ubiquity of the sentiment of Western Alienation that settled out here long before I did.  Being four when we moved, I have no direct memories of living out east other than vague images of a fenced-in backyard, an Afghan hound dog dumber than a sack o' hammers and, strangely, a bathroom sink that had separate hot and cold water faucets.  (Wry thoughts about my dad's tales of parking across from the local Italian Community Hall and shouting, "Hey, Tony!"  He always got a kick out of that.)

What I didn't think much about, until last year, was what else I may have missed, being so far away.  We wouldn't have had to hop a plane in an emotional rush, after an early morning phone call, to make it to my grandfather's funeral to say farewell and for me to act as impromptu pall-bearer at 14 years.  There are some few of my relatives who aren't as crazy as the others, and those relationships would certainly have borne more fruit than they have so far.  I've grown up not knowing my cousins by much more than name and face, and a few e-mails with one who happens to be a Star Wars fan.  Plus a gay cousin with whom I exchanged a brief flurry of e-mails wherein he catalysed the healing process after the implosion of my first engagement.

The image that brings it all home for me is that of my son sitting in the grass in the backyard of my Uncle Tom's house in the afternoon on the day we feted my grandmother.  Declan clutched a football tightly to his chest and looked up into the faces of half a dozen teen-aged second cousins who vied for his attention.  The details of that picture are indelibly etched into my mind.  I was a little sad at the prospect of leaving that setting.  The afternoon, a couple days prior, we pulled up in front of my uncle's house to hug, unpack and usurp his master bedroom for a week was fraught with more sentiment and nostalgia than I could have guessed.

Since our second son came along, both great-grandmothers have expressed their regret at not yet having seen him other than in pictures, and it will be up to us to head back east for an encore show-n-tell.  For reasons of health, both great ladies are unable to make the venture west.  I'd like to do that trip again next year for another opportunity to see four generations together in the same room.  And for other reasons.

The Catch-22 is that I'd never have met my wife or had these beautiful boys with her if I still lived out east.  And it's the fact of having this family that I now pine a little for more of my own.  Which makes regret quite impossible.

So, no regret; a little yearning though.  It's just so goddamn humid out there!

Comments

[TerriTorial]

Funny you brought this up. We have family coming to stay with us from Ontario tomorrow. They are my Godparents and mean the world to me. My Aunt was born and raised here in Saskathcewan but moved East for her husband. She often wonders what her life would have been like if should have stayed here. Would she be as insane as the rest of her family? Would she have made them more sane? But she wouldn't trade any of it for her life in Ontario.

Like George Burns once said "Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city."

[Dixie]

Well, what makes me feel better about living so far away from Marc's family is that when we go and see them, we SEE them and spend excessive amounts of time with them. Last year, we took 2 trips out to BC totally about 25 days. I'm sure we spent more time with Marc's brother's family in those 2 condensed periods than we have with my brother who lives about 8 blocks away. Just make it count when you've got the time. And even though you may not see them with great frequency, maybe the length of time you spend with them in one visit will make up for that. Maybe.

[Grampa]

Love the George Burns comment. It is right on.

[Linda]

I'm one of those crazy people who believe families should live in little communes, in each other's faces every minute of every freakin' day. And I believe it more with each passing year that my grandkids and nieces and nephews are growing up and farther away...

[Linda]

This is one of your best/my favorite posts, btw :-) Love the absence of "ruddy pigmentation" in the neckal area ...

[Mark]

Great stuff. Before we moved to Texas, my wife and I considered returning to live within 45 minutes of all my surviving kin (well, as far out as first cousins, anyway), but then we realized that when we lived that close before, we never saw them anymore than did living six hours away.

Therefore, the George Burns quote was right on the money for us, too. Oh, but now I'm commenting on a comment. Oops.

[E-Belle]

We made the decision to move back East in order to be closer to family. Seeing them once a year wasn't cutting it for us (and the 14 hour car-trips t'weren't no fun, neither). But we DID move to a place that was still far enough away that we see them as frequently as we want to and not MORE than we want to. Moderation in all things, eh?

That said, there are SOME family members I'd love to live in the same city with and some I'd rather not.

And then there are friends you wished lived in the same city.... ;D

[marian]

All that's left of my own crazy family is my one relatively estranged brother back east, his wife and two grown sons. So I'm just as happy not having any family around. Fortunately, my son's birth father has a HUGE family about an hour south of here, so Max does get the experience of reveling in blood relations several times a year.

Meanwhile Rick's family, another one that's fairly estranged, is scattered all over the continent — none near here.

When I was a stay-at-home-mom I was deeply envious of women whose families were nearby so in a pinch they could drop the kids off or have a willing babysitter.

But right now I'm happy with the way things are. Are you seriously considering relocating?

[Simon]

Oh no. Very slim chance of us leaving where we are. (Never say never, right?) But there will be a more concerted effort, especially when both boys are more amenable to travel, to get out and see our relatives more often.

One benefit of living so far away from everybody else is the Prodigal Son effect whenever you go see them. Especially bearing small, adorable children.

[Tina]

I often wonder what would have become of my life, if my folks had decided to stay in Toronto, rather than move to Southern California. In some ways I think it would have been alot easier for them, having loved ones around who could have helped them out, seeing as how they had five kids! Then I grew up and married and moved away for ten years, raising my kids in another state. When we returned, they had missed those 'bonding years' with the cousins. Although they now see each other on occasions, it isn't the same. But, you know what ? My kids will probably do the same thing, moving away to start their own families and traditions. And so it goes.