Topic: Family

Author: Chris Dunn

Family… I almost skipped this one. The demons in my head offered helpful outs like, “You’ve never missed a week…” and “You’re dealing with a lot lately…” But, I made a commitment and if there’s one thing my family taught me, you follow through with your commitments or you suck. But why? Why was it proving so hard for me to come up with a story about my family? I considered going off the board and writing a piece of simple fiction again or talking about The Pit, my chosen extended family, but was I just avoiding the possibility of pain given the recent loss? It took the better part of a day for the answer to finally dawn on me. As any of you who have followed this weekly vigil faithfully already know, nearly all my stories are about my family.

I have no idea what it’s like for those who are estranged from their families, or who live so far away that they only see them on holidays and special occasions. I marvel in wonder when friends talk about hating their parents or bring up the brother they haven’t seen in years. My family has always been close. Even when we were apart, we were a unit. Each of us children went off to school, but then came back home. When the company I was working for moved to Charlottesville, they offered me a position and money for relocation expenses.  “No thanks,” I said. “I’d wither and die in Virginia.” What I meant was, I couldn’t imagine life of any kind so far removed from my family.

Family vacations crowded in the car, our cabin in the woods, drive-in movies, and parties parties parties! Hopefully, you’ve read the stories. Everything we’ve done we’ve done together. Even these sad last few years, as we’ve had to sit by and watch as unseen villains stole all the color and life from the twin pillars of our family structure, we pulled together. It was a family affair: Bridgid handling all the close in work and answering all our medical questions, Marty and I taking turns driving them to countless doctor’s appointments, Tricia spelling us whenever we needed a moment of reprieve, grandchildren doing the heavy work of lifting their faltering spirits. As the end came close for our Dad, the family support staff grew even larger as Sharon and Drew came from distant haunts not to just help his transition, but to aid the living family through the difficult time. None of us could have done it alone, and I’m thankful beyond words for each and every one of you.

This was our saddest story, and part of me wonders how we’re going to keep it all together as the years continue forward. How does this house stand without those two powerful pillars? I wallow in uncertainty, but I know somewhere down deep that there is really no need to worry. What they built, my parents, will stand long after they’ve gone. This family will endure because of the work they did making a welcoming home built on love, honesty, sharing and comfort. If ever any of us needs anything, the others will be there, just as we’ll be there to share in the good times that come for each of us. My stories are their stories, and they live on though me.