"An Open Window"

Family. It's something to be cherished; even when you think the dysfunctional aspects of it will ultimately be your demise. I am not even able to escape the grip that my family holds on me, no matter how far away I move or how emotionally blocked I get. I have tried to keep a safe distance between my family and myself through the past years. I have done this out
of habit - a bad habit that began to manifest itself when I was in high school and hiding my "real" self from my loved ones. Fortunately, with time, I have grown wiser enough to know that my family is a large part of my life. And the positive characteristics within myself that I hold true, I learned from my family.

Fortunately, I was able to visit my family this past Christmas. My living in North Carolina keeps me far from them, and the chances to go back are few and far between. This year I made an effort and trekked back to New Mexico for a short, yet memorable trip. While there, I was able to visit cousins
that I have not seen in over five years, and meet their new husbands and children. We talked about the times when we were children and played. My closest cousin is only three weeks older than I am, so we have always enjoyed each other's company. It was great to see her and realize that all
the time growing up together was a time in our lives that needed to be remembered.

I was also able to visit my grandmother. This February, she will be turning 80 years old. Her life, since my grandfather passed, has been hard and treacherous. She was afflicted with Alzheimer's in the early 90's and has had to move into an assisted living home for the aged. During her time there, her health has deteriorated and her memory has escaped her. Multiple personalities, vicious mood swings, and an overall sense of helplessness plague her and affect my mother and aunt. This is not where any of us thought we'd see her in 2002. I remember her baking pies and sewing. I remember her laughing and hugging her grandchildren with a love only
grandmothers possess. And I remember her eyes as I visited her this year. They were so blank and expressionless. As we were leaving the facility, I glanced back at her. I wondered if this will be the last time I saw her alive. On the drive back to my parents I thought about her life and all she had gone through. She had experienced the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl of the Midwest. She has watched men walk on the moon and Kennedy shot in Dallas. She has witnessed the rise and fall and rise again of governments all across the world. Her husband, my grandfather, was her saving grace during 52 years of her life. When he fought in World War II,
he wrote her often and comforted her with letters of love and hope. He would start out the letters describing his latest battle or mission, but would always end by letting her know that she was the one thing helping him through. A picture of her graced his log book, a symbol that he looked to her in time of need, knowing she was over 3000 miles away living alone on a desolate farm in Eastern New Mexico. He would send the letters and end "'Til death do us part." He passed away in December 1992. He was surely the bravest man I ever knew. And he was married to the bravest of women. So
even if my grandmother is unable to remember all the times she spent during her life, I hope she knows her legacy will live on within her family and within myself.

On Christmas morning, the subject of family slapped me in the face again. After most of the presents had been passed out and the wrapping paper flung, my sister and brother-in-law gave me my last present. The card read "To: Uncle Brandon." For the past five years of their marriage I have bugged my sister and her husband into having children. Somehow or another she always had an excuse. She wasn't ready or they didn't have the money to raise a child. These are legitimate reasons, but I never let up on my nagging. I
wanted to be an uncle. I wanted the family to grow as a new life graced it. On that Christmas morning, I received my wish. if but briefly. The thought of buying Christmas presents for my new niece or nephew next year was exciting. And knowing that I would visit often and spoil that rug-rat as the best uncle ever encouraged me more. I wanted to tell everyone I knew.
I wanted people to know that I was going to be an uncle. a great uncle at that. But, as I alluded, the wish was granted for only a moment. On the morning of December 26, my sister called my mother and was complaining of severe cramps. My mother rushed to her house and they went to the emergency
room. I had to catch my plane that morning, so I was not informed of the tragic news until I arrived back in Charlotte. My sister had had a miscarriage. The short-lived dream disappeared and my family shape returned to normal. My sister bore the news as best she could as the rest of the
family comforted her and her husband.

Family. It's ever changing. It's wonderful and excruciating all rolled up into one tightly wound ball. You never know when something out of the ordinary will affect it, and no matter how hard you try to prepare, there is nothing that will enable you to take it without needing grace from God.

One of my dearest co-workers flew up from Florida to Connecticut this holiday to visit her family. She had not been back in a while and knew that she and her daughters needed the trip and closeness this season. While home, her father suffered from a heart attack and died the day before her
birthday, and less than a week before Christmas Day. The attack was sudden and she was unable to see him before he passed. When she went to see him in the hospital after he died, she was speechless. "What do you tell your father?" Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I am not sure if she was close to him, but I know she is an awesome person, so I know he did his job well as a dad. I feel for her and her loss, but at the same time I feel grateful that my father (even though he is my step-father) is still alive and well. I do love him and I am sure he knows it. he and I were not that close growing up. For some reason I always felt some resentment towards him after my real father died and he married my mother. We hardly talked as I grew up, but the day after Christmas, while my sister and mother were at the hospital, he drove me the 2 hours to the airport to catch my flight. We talked the whole way. Most of it was fluff talk, but it was talk, more dialogue than we have ever exchanged in our relationship. When we got to the airport, I told him goodbye and got of the truck and got my bags. As I was walking into the building, he rolled down the window and called me back. With jittery hands and a nervous tone, he told me how proud he was of me. I had never heard that from him. I sincerely thanked him and watched as he drove off. That was one of the best Christmas presents ever.

Family. You don't get to pick the players and you definitely don't get to decide how the roles will be. One thing is for sure, however, you are in it, and you should be yourself as best you can. You may not be accepted and you may be ridiculed. You may be the black sheep or the prodigal son. But you have to face the fact that they may be all you have. Maybe your family consists of just friends and no one else. Maybe your mother has passed and your father left when you were young. Maybe you are alone and feel that family is a foreign concept. For me, being alone is foreign, and needing to find someone to console in is alien. I am lucky to have my family. I amlucky to have my friends. And I am lucky to have my life.

The New Year is almost here. And I never make resolutions. I believe that any day is a good day to start something positive in your life. But I hope that I make a conscious effort to remain close to my family this year. I hope and pray that my 2002, and yours, will be full of love and prosperity. And may your family touch you and warm you like no other. Each person is special and loved. Don't forget that.

Bran