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The article is subjective and expresses the personal opinion of the author.
Because those relationships aren’t a given.
I am the oldest of five children. There is a three-four year age difference between each of us, with fifteen years between me and my youngest brother. Growing up, my relationships with my family members were a given. We were always in the same space and shared the same experiences. We went to family events together, ate dinner together, watched TV together, played games on family game night together. Even when I went away to college for a semester, all of my family members were there when I went home to visit.
Now I’m in my thirties. What I’ve learned the last ten years is that the close relationships with my family members I took for granted when I was younger are not a given now. Those relationships take effort. They take work.
I don’t mean “work” in a negative sense. No, what I mean is
I need to show up.
My siblings and I are spread across the country, and all of us are living our own busy lives. When I want to talk to them or see them, I can’t just walk into the next room. It takes effort to spend time with them, but that effort is worth it.
When my oldest brother graduated from college, my family piled into my dad’s van and drove five hours to watch my brother walk across the stage. A few weeks later, my family members were all in my wedding — they attended the rehearsal dinner, helped with the set-up, took part in the ceremony, and posed for tons of pictures. Two weeks after that, we gathered in the gymnasium of the local high school to watch my sister graduate. We showed up.
When my son was born and my husband was staying with me in the hospital, my mom and my sister were right there, waiting to hold our baby boy for the first time. My brothers and my dad came to meet him the next day. They showed up.
Every year at Christmas, my family figures out at least one day to be together. This year, my sister flew in from L.A., my oldest brother drove from Charleston, and my middle brother drove from Savannah. Though my husband and I were in the midst of packing and planning for a major move to a different state, we all got together at my mom’s house. We showed up.
My brother called a few months ago to see if my husband and I would be home since he was going to be in town with friends and wanted to stop by and visit. When his friends cancelled, he came anyway. He wanted to see us even though it meant driving five hours by himself. He showed up.
This past weekend, my two youngest brothers graduated — one from high school and one from college. We all came from various cities to see our youngest brother get his high school diploma. Then we got in the car the next day to drive four hours to Savannah to see our middle brother receive his college diploma. We showed up.
I haven’t always shown up — either due to circumstances that prevented me from being there or because I chose not to.
My sister graduated from college two weeks after my son was born via c-section, and I couldn’t make the drive. I still wish I could have been there. I’ve missed weddings and reunions and birthday parties and small get-togethers, either because of work or because I felt like I couldn’t with my schedule. Today I regret some of the choices I made to not be there when I could have been.
Showing up might not be convenient or easy. It might be tiring or stressful or expensive to arrange travel plans. But it matters.
I’m trying to show up as much as I can. Because those close relationships with siblings, parents, cousins, aunt, uncles, and grandparents aren’t a given when you get older. And because that’s what family does.
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