Family Get togethers are the tradition I chose to continue and to build upon as I began my life as a married person. It was a good idea, highly recommended by family, church and my own moral code. The idea of having family together to share good times, significant moments and just to have fun on the long weekends, family home evening and trips to Mom and Dad's. It all started well, with lots of enthusiasm, and more ideas than I could ever do in a lifetime and I had my first baby. It was great, just playing together, establishing the goal as a habit. I bonded with my first son and we had a great time, him smiling at me and me adoring him; not able to break the trance I was in. This little man had just left heaven and had come to me to share my experience of life, but more, I was honored to share his life with him. He became my best friend (and still is- well, all my children are).
Then life came in. My husband (at the time) worked shift work and was often gone. This was not in the plan. We were to be together to build this tradition - how could I do it if he was not there? This dilema repeats through the next generation. What do we do when there is a missing or not interested spouse? What becomes of the tradition? The fact is that it changes. It becomes Mom's agenda and suddenly this beautiful time together has metamorphized into the evil and conniving plan that must be opposed. The children grow and suddenly they look at Dad and his absence and begin asking: Why do I have to do this? Why can't I go to my friend's? I have plans! And the family tradition plunges lower and lower on the priority scale.
Yet, this is a wonderful organization- this family; it only makes sense that we chose to be together in a life before this one, so why does everyone fight to get away from our past and glorious relationship we must have had in the heavens. If only I could convince them that we really are friends and we really did like each other at one time. This is an impossibility as the children hit their teen mentality and mother is just there to make their life as painful as possible by making them be at home for Christmas, Easter Dinner and sibling's birthdays. Family Home Evening disintegrated years back. Heaven forbid (rather- children forbid) that there should be any sign of spirituality in the family. I trudged on through every conceivable trial my children could throw my way and still I believed there has to be hope. They have to see that home can be heaven on earth. They have to see that a mother's love is unconditional. They have to know that family is the most important thing there is. They have to get past the hurts and the pain because one day they have to love one another before I am not here to convince them that they do love each other from some distant place and time eons ago. The rifts grow like noxious weed roots, seeded from a father who disowned each one and began the intolerance and hate that keeps brother from brother, brother from sister, sister from brother and keeps sisters at odds.
Finally, a family opportunity! Horray, God has given me one more chance to help them get past the past and move on in love, harmony, good will and forgiveness. Finally, my dream would move forward instead of backward. Well, nope. There were successes, but my interference in their lives was blocked one more time. It was a wedding, my son was taking the path of growing up and joining the old-fashioned tradition of loving a beautiful girl, then marrying her; you know starting a new family where they could have loving family time together.
I planned a get to know you again opportunity for two of my non-speaking children (I was in charge of seating arrangements at the dinner) but one sister refused to remain where she was seated and unseated her brother taking his spot thus making any conversation between the silent war parties impossible, then blamed her sister of initiating the action. How does one win? The natural forgiveness process was sabotaged, plundered into oblivion, again. The odds are so set against me. Too angry to spit, I vow this is the last family gathering I will attempt (again).
I will move to the Caribbean, live in a little shack, too small for company sleepovers and far enough away, I will not be expected, nor give in to my soul's desire to have another family function. I enjoy the anger, the rage and retailiation, for I know in a few days from now I will probably be planning the summer festivities; but wait my grandson's birthday is in two days. How does one miss something like that and live with one's self. The anger will have to be postponed.
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