Loss-Part 2

I need to get back to processing the loss that is part of my life. I would rather engage in what a friend calls ‘denial and diversion’. It’s less painful that way. Lately, exhaustion seems to be a big part of most of my days, so I’m not inclined to fill those days with things that drain me further. However, I was again reminded that if I plow thru it and acknowledge the loss, I can start to put it behind me. Not sure I completely buy into that theory, but enough ‘D&D’.

For now, I will delve into loss of family relationships. I’m not sure that ‘loss’ is the proper label. As an adult my interaction with my siblings has been extremely limited. Blame can largely be placed on our lack of proximity to each other. I think there is more to it. I know other families who are spread across the continent like mine, but yet they still communicate with each other on a weekly, if not daily, basis. Families that try to plan being together for holidays and special events. Families that actually remember each other’s birthdays, on time, as well as the birthdays of nieces and nephews and spouses. Our family isn’t like that. As adults, we never have been.

It’s not that we don’t care about each other. It’s not that we don’t get along. We all have the same wicked, sarcastic sense of humor. My older sister has probably one of the darkest humor streaks I have ever known. At the end of our father’s life, I was so thankful that she was able to come and sit with me during those last few days keeping vigil at the hospital. I honestly don’t think I could have endured our Mother if she hadn’t been there with her black wit. When we ARE together we seem to enjoy each other. I honestly cannot remember the last time we were all together that didn’t involve a death. As an adult, we have never all celebrated a Christmas together, ever. As I write this, I realize it has been 19 months since we were all in the same room together. So what is it that keeps us away from each other, keeps us in our own corners?

I understand that we all have our individual lives. I understand that we each have careers, and spouses, and a whole host of commitments. Some of us have children that occupy our waking hours. For years I had a habit of writing to each of my siblings on a regular basis. Just a short ‘hi, hope you are well, here is what is going on with us, let me know how you are’ kind of thing. Rarely would I get a response. Never would I get the same sort of thing initiated by one of them. Finally this past fall I decided to stop being the family crier. It didn’t seem to matter to anyone and frankly not getting a response most of the time began to eat at me. Major pet peeve, writing to someone and not getting a response. A-N-N-O-Y-I-N-G. I also wondered if it annoyed them. Seeing as no one really ever responded, maybe they were happier not having updates. I wasn’t sure, I’m still not sure.

With the exception of my mother, who attends about ½ the time, extended family events are also rarely attended by my siblings. There are always legitimate and understandable reasons given. However, I still wish that at least one of them would make the extra effort once in a while. I’m left explaining where they are, what they are doing, making excuses for their perceived lack of interest in the family. It sucks. No other way to put it, it sucks. I have 3 siblings, but I often feel like an only child.

I must give credit where credit is due. My siblings send gifts and cards, and make periodic phone calls to my Mother. But, they have rarely been physically present for my parents’ birthdays, anniversary, Mother’s and Father’s days, etc.. I understand that its more convenient for me. My parents moved to where I live 17 years ago.  This doesn’t erase the fact that when these events are coming up, I have to be the one to plan them. I don’t even bother to ask anymore if anyone will make it. I know they can't.  I know they won’t. It’s these times that I miss close relationships the most. This weekend is Mother’s Day and my Mother’s birthday. I will be the only one with her. The logical part of me understands that it is inconvenient for the others to make the journey here and that the others have commitments, some of which they cannot get out of. But I still will be wishing they were here.