Mi familia
As Christmas approaches with the slow roar of frantic shoppers and stressed relationships, I feel the need to share my thoughts about family. I've never been much of a believer in evolution on a macro scale; there has to be something or someone who set this all in motion. But when it comes to family, evolution is the word to use for its survival. People can talk about family values and the nuclear family, but what they miss, I think, is that to be a part of a family is to simply survive at times. And as we grow older, marry into other families, and begin our own new families, we must adapt in order to fit into that one family that matters--the Human Family.
It is a difficult thing, this ability to evolve as a family. I can use no better example than my own experience. My experience is only important to you because somewhere in my story is your story; we share a common humanity that binds us together and allows us to grow with each other. I come from a nuclear family, and yes that is intentional. I have a mother and a father that were around to raise me. I have an older brother Keith, who is a pastor, a younger sister Brie, who is a paralegal, and a younger brother David, who is trying to figure life out at the mature age of 18. We even had a dog. As a family we went to church three times a week, just to be safe; we ate dinners together almost regularly; we went on vacations. All things that the nuclear family does.
But for the longest time my sister and I hated each other in the most nuclear ways. By the age of 17, I wanted to be on my own and so I skipped across country the fall after graduation. By that point, my older brother was meeting his lovely wife and marrying--I didn't quite connect with her as a sister-in-law which disconnected me from my brother. My younger brother, the baby of the family, was far too bright for someone his age and without his siblings around, found other ways to entertain himself, much to my parents chagrin. And for a while it seemed the McNamar clan had been destroyed. We had all gone separate and distinct routes as children, leaving my parents, hands in the air--perhaps in prayer, perhaps in confusion--trying to figure out what went wrong.
So here it is Christmas, nearly 10 years since I skipped town, my older brother is a pastor with two children and living an hour from my parent, my sister, a paralegal living on her own fifteen minutes from my parents, my younger brother living at home and still not sure what life is about, and me, married and living 3000 miles away. The nuclear family had to evolve.
By the grace of God alone we have evolved. I can say confidently that we have lived our own nuclear wasteland and evolved because of it. We've adapted to become stronger, to survive with the fittest. We've stewarded our pain well and the result is survival.
As a teacher, I see first hand the agony that Christmas creates in individuals who are now living their own version of the nuclear family. People are in pain all around us for so many reasons. Divorce. Death. War. A wandering child. But in the end, it is not how many Christmas Days you've spent together, or the traditions you've held to dearly. For most it is have you survived and have you evolved to keep that family, whatever it might look like.
It is a difficult thing, this ability to evolve as a family. I can use no better example than my own experience. My experience is only important to you because somewhere in my story is your story; we share a common humanity that binds us together and allows us to grow with each other. I come from a nuclear family, and yes that is intentional. I have a mother and a father that were around to raise me. I have an older brother Keith, who is a pastor, a younger sister Brie, who is a paralegal, and a younger brother David, who is trying to figure life out at the mature age of 18. We even had a dog. As a family we went to church three times a week, just to be safe; we ate dinners together almost regularly; we went on vacations. All things that the nuclear family does.
But for the longest time my sister and I hated each other in the most nuclear ways. By the age of 17, I wanted to be on my own and so I skipped across country the fall after graduation. By that point, my older brother was meeting his lovely wife and marrying--I didn't quite connect with her as a sister-in-law which disconnected me from my brother. My younger brother, the baby of the family, was far too bright for someone his age and without his siblings around, found other ways to entertain himself, much to my parents chagrin. And for a while it seemed the McNamar clan had been destroyed. We had all gone separate and distinct routes as children, leaving my parents, hands in the air--perhaps in prayer, perhaps in confusion--trying to figure out what went wrong.
So here it is Christmas, nearly 10 years since I skipped town, my older brother is a pastor with two children and living an hour from my parent, my sister, a paralegal living on her own fifteen minutes from my parents, my younger brother living at home and still not sure what life is about, and me, married and living 3000 miles away. The nuclear family had to evolve.
By the grace of God alone we have evolved. I can say confidently that we have lived our own nuclear wasteland and evolved because of it. We've adapted to become stronger, to survive with the fittest. We've stewarded our pain well and the result is survival.
As a teacher, I see first hand the agony that Christmas creates in individuals who are now living their own version of the nuclear family. People are in pain all around us for so many reasons. Divorce. Death. War. A wandering child. But in the end, it is not how many Christmas Days you've spent together, or the traditions you've held to dearly. For most it is have you survived and have you evolved to keep that family, whatever it might look like.
posted by Mr. McNamar at 9:48 AM
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