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So, I missed this year's Superbowl - though I did catch the radio broadcast. Spent Saturday going down to Norfolk Naval Station for work, and Sunday driving up and back to Queens for a funeral.
Friday, my father's aunt Sarah passed away at the age of 93.
She'd been in declining health for some time, but this is not unlike losing another gandmother. For all the talk about how wonderful the families we make our own are, there are some things a good, loving, and large extended family that can give you, that no manner of developed family in adolesence or adulthood can replace. I can see it everyday when I look at my parents... At the wondeful extended family my father grew up in, and the considerably less wonderful family my mother came from.
My grandfather was one of seven siblings, and now only the two youngest (Aunt Zelda and Uncle Ray) are the only ones left. For most of my life, Aunt Sarah was the matriarch of our clan - summers when she would play hostess to as many of the cousins as possible. Where family meant hugs, food, card games, encouragement, and love. My Aunt had a wicked sense of humor, an eye for family tradition, and Yiddush expressions for every occasion. She crocheted blankets, and cooked. And she told us all that we were her favorite.
I have a pretty large number of cousins. We don't see each other all that often, but things are wonderful whenever we do. Even yesterday after the funeral. We ate, and reminisced, and talked about the things going on in our lives... I know how hard my aunts and uncle worked to keep the family close after kids grew up and moved away from New York, and as their brothers and sister died. No matter what had gone by, wherever my Aunt Sarah went - that was always home. And so when she passed, we came. Yesterday, at my cousin's home, we reminisced, we hugged, we cried, and we ate. Boy did we eat. And I know my Aunt would have smiled at that.
And it's a reminder to me, that I'm 29 and I don't have a wife or kids yet. And while I'm not particularly pressed or in a hurry - I want to be able to raise children as part of the sort of large, loving family that my father grew up in. That, through him, I grew up in. And it is times like this that I'll worry that I'll have my children so late in life that there will be so many wonderful relatives that they won't get to know. I don't know that it means I'll change my priorities. But it's something I think about.
But mostly, I think about what my cousins and I can do to carry on the legacy that my grandparents generation has left. And it makes me want to find more time for them.
Friday, my father's aunt Sarah passed away at the age of 93.
She'd been in declining health for some time, but this is not unlike losing another gandmother. For all the talk about how wonderful the families we make our own are, there are some things a good, loving, and large extended family that can give you, that no manner of developed family in adolesence or adulthood can replace. I can see it everyday when I look at my parents... At the wondeful extended family my father grew up in, and the considerably less wonderful family my mother came from.
My grandfather was one of seven siblings, and now only the two youngest (Aunt Zelda and Uncle Ray) are the only ones left. For most of my life, Aunt Sarah was the matriarch of our clan - summers when she would play hostess to as many of the cousins as possible. Where family meant hugs, food, card games, encouragement, and love. My Aunt had a wicked sense of humor, an eye for family tradition, and Yiddush expressions for every occasion. She crocheted blankets, and cooked. And she told us all that we were her favorite.
I have a pretty large number of cousins. We don't see each other all that often, but things are wonderful whenever we do. Even yesterday after the funeral. We ate, and reminisced, and talked about the things going on in our lives... I know how hard my aunts and uncle worked to keep the family close after kids grew up and moved away from New York, and as their brothers and sister died. No matter what had gone by, wherever my Aunt Sarah went - that was always home. And so when she passed, we came. Yesterday, at my cousin's home, we reminisced, we hugged, we cried, and we ate. Boy did we eat. And I know my Aunt would have smiled at that.
And it's a reminder to me, that I'm 29 and I don't have a wife or kids yet. And while I'm not particularly pressed or in a hurry - I want to be able to raise children as part of the sort of large, loving family that my father grew up in. That, through him, I grew up in. And it is times like this that I'll worry that I'll have my children so late in life that there will be so many wonderful relatives that they won't get to know. I don't know that it means I'll change my priorities. But it's something I think about.
But mostly, I think about what my cousins and I can do to carry on the legacy that my grandparents generation has left. And it makes me want to find more time for them.
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My father's family is large, German/Irish, overbearing, loud, obnoxious, card-playing, and wonderful.
I had similar thoughts when my Great Grandmother passed away. Its sad to think that my children won't know her. I just remember that we are all products of the upbringing, and therefore, the kids, though they might miss out on people, won't miss out on the meaning or the atmosphere.
Hell. I'm almost 23, and I still sit at the "kid table". My cousin, who has her own kid, still sits at the "kid table." (Because there is no room at the "adult" table.) And we love every minute of it. :)
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My condolences to you and your family.
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I am always shocked by how many people don't get along with their families, never talk to their siblings, hate their parents. I can't fathom it.
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I have to agree. As much as I adore all of you ATPo folk, and my school friends, I can't get away from my blood relatives, especially my mom's side. And I can't get away from my church friends. Maybe they're not quite to the same degree of "family" as blood relatives, but I've known most of these people since I was in diapers. We grew up together and we've become adults together. I could never turn my back on them.
I'm so sorry for your loss, and I'm glad that you have such good relationships with your extended family to sustain you. Your aunt sounded like a wonderful woman -- there's something about a matriarch that really brings a family together, making sure reunions actually happen :)
*hugs*
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I know what you mean about extended family. My cousins and I are extremely close and I wouldn't have it any other way. They're like brothers to me. We're all so very different and have taken such different paths in life, but the way things are when we're together -- just really comfortable -- is a pretty rare thing.
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And I know the feeling. I've never been one for marriage or kids but now that I'm nearly 40 the clock is kicking in.
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I am always shocked by how many people don't get along with their families, never talk to their siblings, hate their parents. I can't fathom it.
I'm not shocked. The family you discuss here? That's my mother's side of the family. As supportive as my father's father was of him, my mother's father was as unsupportive of her. Many times, we could only wish my mother hated her parents. She's never been able to really break from them, and she probably should have.
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I certainly agree. Considering that it was a funeral, it was amazing how 'happy' an event yesterday was.
And yes on the "kids" table. It's particularly funny because the cousins of my father's generation - many of whom are entering their sixties - still act like they're the ones at the "kids" table.
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She was a woman where everyone took her love with them even when she wasn't there. Family mattered a lot to her, and I like to think she would have been happy to see us.
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She was. I don't have a single memory of her that isn't a happy one.
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Heh.
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I cannot begin to understand what it's like to have such a large family around you, having lost my parents when I was very young. I do regret the fact that the children never got to meet them and that they missed the whole family interaction thing; neither my husband or I have much family, and those we do have prefer not to acknowledge us.
For the record, my partner was 36 when we had our first child, so don't feel that you have to rush into anything.
Children have a wonderful capacity to accept things the way they are.
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And I certainly count my blessings, because of what I've been fortunate enough to have. My parents (and my immediate family) weren't close with their siblings (or their families) but we've had a wonderful extended family. I've been fortunate in that regard.
I don't feel an immediate rush to have children yet - many of my relatives have done so later in life, and some have not had children at all. But the urge to start a family does float in the background. My grandfather was 67 when I was born, and he didn't live to see my Bar-Mitzvah. As my own father nears the age of 60, it's something I'm increasingly aware of.
I know I'm not particularly ready or inclined to have a family anytime soon, but I do think I want one eventually, and I really don't want to contemplate raising a child, and not having my father or mother alive to be able to see them.
So at some point, I'll have to reassess what my priorities in life are, and whether I need to make changes to meet them. I like being an unattached bachelor... but I don't want to look back when I'm older and feel like I missed something either...
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Still...sorry for your loss.
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