Family.

the last remnant

It’s that time of year on the snow-covered prairie, this winter came in screaming like a wildcat. A week ago, I was crawling over logs and through thorn bushes looking for that ever-elusive fall turkey. Now, Thanksgiving has come and gone, and Christmas is just around the corner. That little bit of bite in the air has been around for a month now; the days are slowly getting colder, and the nights more so.

The trees have dropped most of their leaves, and those old oaks that refuse to give them up have finally shed the last ones, as if in defeat.

Their crunch makes it hard not to move through the forest like an elephant, alerting everything for a good half mile of your travels down the valley. Every animal and person has been living in the state of heightened awareness; we know that the first big snowstorm is brewing somewhere far to the West, and it’s just been a matter of time.

The seasons change, come and go, and that first big one has come and gone already. Now that snow has covered everything in sight, it truly feels like family season, like it or not.

Family is a funny thing, isn’t it?

Frought with all sorts of emotions; mother, father, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, you know … the whole tribe. Some people are close; others, not so much. Some you like; some you don’t. The truth is, we haven’t devolved as much as we think from our ancestors, back when family was the difference between life and death, feast or famine.

We live in the constant buzz of a digital age, when generations have cast family aside in favor of empty faces and empty words that have no meaning or value, some stranger here or there, across the world, a fake community of like-minded zealots who could never help you in your time of need.

The truth of the matter is that humans were made for each other, better or worse.

The problem is that people don’t realize that until it’s too late most of the time. I’m always amazed, whether talking to casual acquaintances or close friends, how often I hear those bitter words, “I don’t talk to them anymore …” when inquiring about family and the upcoming holidays.

Not even the most righteous of us is immune to the trap of falling away from family. I don’t think it’s a good idea.

I do consider myself lucky, with my extended family that is. I am the youngest of 5 children, and could throw a stone and hit many a sibling, aunt, uncle, nephew, and niece. In fact, I see them many times a year, a few times a month. That is to say, my family is close-knit.

We literally roast hogs together.

It’s been like that since I can remember. My life has largely been defined by my extended family; I imbibed their attitudes and attributes in every way. I can depend on them in every way.

I never have to worry about being hungry, homeless, lost, abandoned, or a multitude of calamities that probably haunt others. No fake internet friends needed here. No pills or drinks to numb anything.

I can still remember taking my first puff on a cigar and popping off my first round out of Grandma’s 410 behind the barn with my brother and uncle egging me on. I’ve hunted and fished many times with both now that I’m older, made memories worthy of movies, and would send me to jail.

I remember watching an older cousin, enraptured by his stories about computers, and now I write code for a living. All because of “the family.” You can’t put a price on family; those without it, for whatever reason, are missing a great hole that cannot be filled with anything else.

Sometimes I do think about the family that has come and gone for good. Recently, I walked that long mile up the old blacktop road that climbs out of the wooded river valley, to that cemetery surrounded by pines with a view of the river running below.

I made a stop by my Grandfather’s grave, thinking back to the times when he would set me up on his workbench while he whittled away at those little wood figures. Or when he would trundle me up into the front seat of his Chevy Cavalier, where I had no business being at that age, and haul me off to the Old Threshers Reunion.

Everytime I drive by the Cedar Valley Engine Club, which isn’t much, I can see him in my minds eye out there in the fields, pointing and explaining to me.

I don’t know if he knew what he was doing 30 years ago when he did that, but it was worth the time. You should always do anything and everything you can for family, that stuff has a way of being a ripple effect that passes on down for generations to come.

All those hay wagon rides we did on Grandma’s farm, that is now gone with her, have rippled down till today. All the kids, cousins, sisters, and brothers, head straight for the tractors when we get to the farm now.

They are building those same muscle memories I did, in their own way, their own lives. I pray that indeed they will carry that down past me when I’m long gone, and think kindly on me, like I do for my Grandfather, for taking the time.

Anyways, this holiday season, I hope you can find time to spend with family … all of them. Be kind, be patient, live and let live. In a world drawn away into pointless and frivolous things, you should turn to what is true, good, and close … that is … family.