The Silver Lining

June 10, 1964

      Yesterday I wrote about attending my elderly uncle's funeral.  Those occasions are certainly difficult days but there can be a silver lining in such events.  For me, family funerals are painful but they are also precious times to renew connections with extended family members.  I have about 35 first cousins on my mother's side of the family and most of these first cousins have children of their own.  Now that "the greatest generation" is dying (many of my uncles fought during WW2), we meet to say goodbye to another elder but we also meet to visit and connect with our own generation.  Sadly, we have already lost six of the 11 elders and four of the cousins from my generation so we know we are not far behind.

     The extended family is scattered primarily on the West Coast and mostly in California.  When funerals happen, people make every effort to leave their homes and gather where the family of the deceased lives.  Of course, there is a great enfolding of the branch of the family that has been most impacted by the death but the ripples extend to all.  Oddly enough to me, we have weddings too but they don't draw the same people.  I went to a handful of my first cousins' weddings back in the day but I don't see myself on the guest list for their children's weddings - gotta draw the line somewhere!

    One of the best things to come out of the funeral this week was this:  I got a chance to meet two cousins that I remember meeting only once (I was ten at the time....they were 2 and 8 years old.  Does that count?).  Near as we can figure, their dad and our mutual grandfather had some kind of falling out back in the early 1960's.  As a result, that family rarely came to family gatherings. They lived maybe a couple of hours from my home but somehow packing all of us into the family car and going out to visit the other family never happened.  Don't know why.

   It was such a pleasure to meet these two sisters!  They are 50ish and stunningly beautiful (clearly in every way).  The three of us stood together with a couple of other 50ish cousins and tried desperately to make up for lost time.  Impossible! I had the strong sensation that. because of some adult issue from way back when, we kid cousins got cheated out of this connection.  The people at the church were in need of the hall back so we had to move on but not before promises were made to arrange a weekend get together (sans funeral) soon.  I am on it!

G: Gay Rights

(Disclaimer:  This is an unabashed opinion piece, sociopolitical in nature.  I care passionately about this issue but stop right now if your blood boils at the idea of same sex families.)


      Human  sexuality is brilliant in its complexity.  I do have faith in credible science and I am fascinated with the relatively recent research in sexuality.  Research suggests  that aspects of human sexuality are essentially based on a continuum.  For example, the breadth and depth of human sexual appetite can be laid out on a continuum from a very limited desire (or even no desire) to a much more voracious appetite.  Placement on the continuum is individual and normal.  Control of the appetite can be problematic but that does not take away from placement as individual and normal.

      In the same way, research suggests that sexual orientation is not a choice but rather is one part of who we are.  Sexual orientation ranges from exclusively heterosexual to exclusively homosexual and the range in between allows for all blended possibilities.  If we assume that orientation is not a choice (and I do), then I cannot understand what issue there could possibly be with same sex partnerships.  What possible impact could a same sex partnership have on my heterosexual marriage?  If these two people are attracted to each other, what possible business can that be of mine?  If they love each other and want to bring that love to a new level by parenting children, how could this be a problem?  In fact, if they want to have a child, there has to be more thought than with heterosexual relationships.  After all, pregnancy is not an accident with homosexual partners.  Speaking as a professional who works daily with plenty of children who are growing up in dysfunctional families  - in part, I suspect, because their conception was a "surprise" - I am often impressed with the strong and steady parenting of my two dad and two mom families.  Something about the planning and thought that went into becoming families makes for stronger families.

    In the interests of keeping this post short, I simply want to ask:  why, in these tumultuous times, would we, as a society, deny anyone the opportunity for family ties?  I don't understand how people can be so judgmental and unkind to other people who simply want to create family as they see it.  If you think you have an answer, I urge you to respond.  I genuinely want to know your rationale.

Lucky

    Talented writer  Matt over at River of Time  posted a piece today entitled  Do You Feel Lucky?  He captured my attention with his engaging and thoughtful post and now I am compelled to answer his question.

    Lucky?  Emphatically, yes.  Soooooooo lucky.  For one thing, I came into the world blessed with strong genes.  My parents are/were both highly intelligent and creative people with strong immune systems.  They were all about family and wrapped their children in a secure blanket of religion, routine, structure, and high expectations.  I have always considered myself to be particularly fortunate when it comes to siblings.  I have tight relationships with all seven of my bros and with my lone sister.  I couldn't ask for a better stroke of luck.

    I am married to a life long Eagle scout.  He attained that rank in his teens and he has always held true to the laws of scouting.  He is a principled man with compassion and a good sense of humor.  We have two adult children who are also responsible and compassionate people.  Both are independent, intelligent, and creative.  Both care first and foremost about family and community.  I am so proud of them and know that genetic luck played some role in who they are.

    I know I took risks and made unwise choices repeatedly in my twenties.  I don't think I knew then but I sure know now:  I was so lucky.  My life could have taken such a different direction.  As it was, I ended up safely graduating from college, landing a teaching position, working for several years while going to grad school - all the while courting danger but luckily avoiding it.  I have been able to take my education and parlay it into a satisfying and community based career.  I know there are many people who are unemployed and I know there are good people who would love to have my job.  I am lucky.  And, trust me, as soon as I can, I will step aside and let someone else try their hand at my work!

     My relative material comfort is, in good measure, all about luck.  Sure, I worked hard (most of the time) getting through college and I went after and attained a good career in education - no luck in that part - but I am also fortunate to have been born in the country in which I was born and in the era in which I was born.  I live in a safe small town.  I have a warm home and enough food in the cupboards to feed the neighborhood.  I have health insurance and a decent set of wheels (both bike and VW).  I live in a place where beauty abounds.  Now, I know I can find beauty anywhere but really?  The coastal foothills and the nearby seacoast make beauty second to breathing.  It's everywhere everyday.  I am lucky.

   Have I not mentioned health yet?  Holy moley - I am lucky in spades in that department.  I am rarely sick and usually manage to recover quickly when that does happen.  Admittedly, I do take care of myself - not smoking, exercising regularly, watching the quality and quantity of what I eat, wearing a seatbelt and a bike helmet.  However,  the lumpectomy from a few years ago was not cancer, the kidney stone from a couple of years ago was hella painful but led to no further consequences, the bike accident was messy and painful but I had no head injuries and was left with almost full movement in my right arm.  Lucky!

   I know I get discouraged.  I know I sometimes focus more on what might be less than satisfying than on what might be working well.  Underneath the discouragement is the knowledge - concrete and palatable - that I am lucky.  Perhaps that is the voice I need to hear the most.

 

The Furrowed Brow Is Not Pretty

      The older I get the more I know that humor, playfulness, and laugher are keys to a happy life.  As a kid, there was a lot of laughter in our house, for sure, and a sense of humor was valued.  There was also, however, the Catholic Church.  I can't speak for today but in the 50's and 60's the Catholic Church was not a playful place to be.  I attended a rigorous Catholic elementary school where silence was king and laughter was generally met with reprimand.  Mass and other devotions stressed (in my childlike mind) suffering, sadness, sacrifice, and solemnity and were often just plain scary.  Since life in our house was shaped by the Church, I suspect that those characteristics were part of the fabric, even if laughter was also a strong part of the fabric.  And life was serious.  You needed to do well in school you needed to have the right answer at the dinner table, you needed to "hold your tongue" when told to do so.  You were an O'Neill and O'Neills did not fail.  One thing that O'Neills had in common though?  A furrowed brow and a serious and responsible outlook on life.

      That seriousness did serve me well, no doubt.  Because I took education seriously, I was a successful student.  Because I paid attention and studied how to make it in the job world, I secured valuable and responsible employment.  When my children were born, I felt to the core of my being how important their early years were and took my responsibility as parent to the extreme. My focus in all was on how to do well in the world and doing well seemed to be about work.  And work is serious business.
So then I started getting up there in the decades and I stepped back from all this serious stuff and I discovered that it was all bullshit.  The furrowed brow is not pretty, is not playful, is not relaxing, is not fun.  The furrowed brow doesn't make me smile.  It doesn't make anyone smile.  Sure, there is a time and a place for seriousness but not all day, every day.  Playfulness, levity and laughter lighten the days.  Silliness and an ability to be a bit of a kid provide balance to the tragic headlines that weigh down the life of an adult.  I have decided that laugher and play are healthy behaviors that need to infuse each and every one of my days.  In fact, to be happily alive, I must laugh. I  must play.  I must be affectionate and warm and that joyfulness must be contagious.