Family and Loss

Each one of our family tragedies ends with a variation on the same theme.

"We should do this more often."

"We should get together for happier events."

"We should plan a family reunion."

"I wish we would have done this when grandma/grandpa/dad/cousin were alive to enjoy it."

We should. But we never did. Decades of secrets, simmering resentments, real and imagined slights, and suspicions of favoritism  all conspire to keep extended family members apart except for the saddest of occasions when attendance is obligatory. We share DNA, a last name and a history, but little more. Somehow, though, for those  brief hours amidst the flower arrangements, dollar buns, and potato salad, we recognize the frailty of this fleeting life, and vow to move past the drama and dysfunction that has defined us for many years.

Tomorrow we'll meet again to celebrate the life and mourn the loss of a man gone too soon. We'll hug and we'll forgive. We'll share memories and we'll tell stories and we'll promise- Promise!- this time will be different. And in a month or a year or a decade when the time comes to say goodbye to another one of us, we'll do it again.