Tomorrow is Easter, and whether you celebrate, I hope you have something lovely planned for the weekend. I'm having my family over for dinner, but I have to tell you, mine isn't like one of those nice Harlequin American families.
You know the ones I'm talking about, those families that meet the heroine for the first time and instantly love her, making her feel welcome and valued as her own family never did. The mom who cooks up a storm of roast beef and mashed potatoes and cherry pie; the hard-working dad, the boisterous, teasing brothers, the impish but adorable niece, maybe a wise grandparent.
That does not describe my family. Mine are all crazy. Card-carrying, certifiable nuts. They talk incessantly all at the same time. They like to watch bad TV. They drink too much, they bicker over religion, politics and football, and one black-sheep cousin has been known to steal from houses where she is a guest. My sister obsessively cleans my kitchen (maybe that's not such a bad thing). And the children? Not cute or impish. Scary is the word I would use.
Yet I keep inviting them over, and they keep coming. When they invite me, I go. We share blood and a past, and that counts for a lot.
Everyone in my parents' generation is gone now. Members of my generation are the guardians of the history, the tellers of the stories, the keepers of the sacred photo albums and home movies. Much as I'd like to pretend I don't know them (sometimes), my family is part of me. I probably drive them as nuts as they drive me. But when we gather and tell stories, we remember and honor those who came before us, and we create new memories for the next generation. Reason enough to put up with a bit of craziness.
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6 comments:
Reason enough, indeed. And something we need to keep in mind when we look around and find -- surprise, surprise -- that we have somehow become the 'elders' of our families.
Sounds just like my family!
Kara,
I have some of those relatives, too, except I don't invite them to dinner. LOL
Happy Easter!
I'm glad I'm not the only one! I think everyone's family is dysfunctional, or at least it seems that way when you're in the middle of it!
Happy Easter!
I ran off a copy of your blog and read it aloud to the assemblage of family, friends of family, friends of friends who were seated round my sister's mammouth kitchen table yesterday. At first, I'm pretty sure they thought "I" was the crazy one -- reading an essay to them about 'crazy relatives', but when we got to the end, the most amazing thing happened. One after another, each began sharing memories of our families, of past Easters, of some of those stories we are now the guardians of. Thanks, Kara, for the inspiration!
Lee, I somehow missed your comment earlier. Thank you so much for telling me this. So often we feel like our written words have little or no impact. You made my day!
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