I Wish You Enough

After a whirlwind week of driving over 2200 miles, making and devouring my dad's ridiculously delicious homemade fudge, playing a silly version of charades at my mom's with all of the kids in her living room, and having more fun than I could ever imagine with every single person in my 20+ member extended family, we are home.

It is amazing to me how it is always so exciting to pack up the car, filled with anticipation, before the trip; yet it is just as sweet to walk back in those doors. This time we drove it straight on the return-trip. 17.5 hours in a car--3 in the backseat. Nobody complained (too much) as I guess we were all "smellin' the barn" a little bit. But gosh it was nice to be back in my own bed.

But I must say, I miss every single one of my family. I miss them a lot.

My nephew Nicholas came from California. Nicholas is 22 and due to complicated circumstances, hasn't come back to Oklahoma for five years. I didn't realize how much I have missed him. Seeing him this Christmas? It was a piece of perfection. He is so grown up and handsome. It was the most difficult telling him good-bye as I am unsure when I will see him again. I hope he keeps his promise. I hope he comes next year.

When Nicholas was born, we lived in California--practically neighbors with my sister Lori and her family. I had Ciara and then six months later, along came Nick. Since he was the oldest "healthy" child, he did all of the firsts. Of course, I was new to this parenting business and unaware of what children were like. You know--all of the "no's" and tantrums and selfish ways of toddlers...and children... (and really adults--we just learn to hide our tantrums behind closed doors). My first memory of Nick--I still can see him so clearly in my mind's eye--is him with the bicycle water bottles. Back in those days, Roy loved to ride his bicycle. He had, in typical Roy fashion, all of the paraphernalia in this odd room in our house that was between the living room and the dining room/kitchen area.  It was filled with weight lifting equipment and bicycles and oddly enough, a couch. But over to the side was a book shelf filled with bicycle magazines and on the bottom shelf, several water bottles neatly lined up so that Roy could grab one at a moment's notice as he headed out the door.  Every time Lori would visit, which was often, Nicholas in tow, he would make a bee-line for those water bottles, using his chubby little hand to knock every last one over. And then he would sit up and look at us with those big blue eyes as if to say, All done.

I wish I knew then what I know now. I wish I knew how quickly time flies and how these babies that can be exasperating and exhausting grow up so quickly. It's so cliche' but so very true that in the blink of an eye, they're gone.  And once they are gone, it's over. There's no going back. 

I wish I had appreciated it more.

I wish I had spent more time laughing and creating and embracing; less time worrying about discipline and having a clean house and "me" time.

The winds of change are in the air where my family is concerned. All of these kids are growing up and finding their life partners. Most of them are in college now and our get-togethers are no longer filled with rough and tumble, games with buttons, and contests of who can stand out in the snow with their bare feet the longest. Silliness still abounds, of course. I'm pretty sure that will be a pillar of family gatherings  and that's a good thing as it keeps us laughing. But everyone is all grown up and so, of course, they will soon be forging families of their own. They will be dividing the holidays between their family and the in-laws. Family Christmas on the Oklahoma plains will become a distant memory of a childhood gone by.

When I was young, I was so desperate to grow up and experience all that life had to offer. I was standing in the foreground, arms reaching forward, yearning for my future: marriage and then babies and then a fulfilling career and so much more--always looking ahead with dreamy eyes.

And I am still excited for the tomorrows of my life. I still have so much to experience. In many ways, I feel like I'm just getting started...and that's weird because I'm on the fringes of fifty. Who knew fifty felt so young? 

But where family is involved, where my kids and nieces and nephews and even my parents come into play, I find that I am now reaching backwards, yearning a little more for the yesterdays. I understand now the fleeting moments of today, how important it is to treasure those relationships and conversations and joys that come from being together. Because, sadly, those days of togetherness begin to change in subtle ways; and then before you know it, they take on a completely different look and what was once normal becomes a distance memory.

I was raised in a family that treasured family on both my mom's and dad's side. We spent so much time with cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents growing up. But then I grew up, married, started a family of my own and became my own person. Family was compartmentalized to those two times a year when we all got together. The rest of my life was busy with small children and a husband and a career and doing all of those things that we do in our twenties and thirties. Extended family took a backseat in my life. I loved them all, of course--but didn't have this deep yearning or realization that, really, nobody gets you or has your back like family.

But the older I get, the more I appreciate all of them. Every single one. So seeing Nicholas? It was like comin' home. It was good for my soul, it brought completion to the trip. It made me want to take him by the hand and hold him close as he navigates his future. He's a bit unsure yet what he wants to do with his life and seems to be struggling in some areas. I yearn to shield him, protect him and plead with him to just hold the course. Don't give up. 

But of course...I can't. All I can do is hug him goodbye, hold him close for that one last moment, and then let go.

And meanwhile I will busy myself in North Carolina doing the things we do here. I will teach my classes, update the Alumni database, go to church, laugh at Jace and talk to my girls. I will carry on deep, soulful conversations with Roy about our tomorrows and enjoy the friendships of so many people that I hold dear to my heart. I will carry on with my life and, from an outside perspective, it will appear that all is well. 

And really, it is.

But a piece of me is back there in Oklahoma, surrounded by those that have my heart. A piece of me is grasping for my parents, begging them to stay healthy and well; holding my nieces and nephews and wishing them all good things as they traverse life's highway on their own; joining hands with my sisters as  we stand side by side, and look at each other with knowing eyes.

"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye."