I was raised to know that family is very important. While I was born in Canada, I am a first
generation Canadian, my parents having moved here in the 60s from Portugal
(separately, it would be years before they would meet). My family was and is close. Oh, we don’t get together every weekend or
anything like that, but it can be quite often when you add it up. We tend to celebrate big events together,
and I don’t just mean weddings, things like 1st birthdays,
communions, confirmations and other milestones. Then of course, there is at least 2 family barbeques during the
summer and we still have Thanksgiving, Christmas and possibly New Years. There may also be gatherings that are just
chances for us to get together. When
you consider how many gatherings that could potentially be in a year, we can
see each other quite often. Of course,
sometimes things may get in the way, previous plans, bad weather, illnesses,
but we try and to be honest, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to enjoy these
gatherings more and more (though not all the traveling). We argue, but we make up. We try not to let petty things tear us
apart, though that’s not saying it hasn’t happened. I do have an uncle I haven’t seen in years…his choice to remove
himself from the family.
There are of course some family members I see or speak to
more often then others. Some are
geographically better positioned for visits, and a couple I speak to on
Facebook. I also happen to speak to my
mom every day. But no matter what, no
matter where we are, we know we are there for each other. My maternal grandmother never learned to
properly speak English, and as far as I know, never learned to drive. When she was at home, she used public
transit to get around, and if she needed to go to a dr’s appointment where she
needed translation, someone went with her.
If there was a family gathering, someone would drive to pick her up and
then take her home again (her kids all eventually moved about an hours drive
away, though they all live fairly close to each other). When my grandma needed open heart surgery,
she lived with her kids (taking turns between houses) until she was well enough
to return home by herself. When she
suffered a series of minor strokes and ended up in hospital, someone was there
to be with her every day. When she
eventually lost the ability to speak or do anything for herself and needed to
be in a home, her kids and goddaughter took turns coming in to feed her meals,
trying to be there for as many meals as possible. When she passed away, she spent that last day surrounded by her
family, and in her final minutes, she was surrounded by her kids. Life sometimes pulls us away, makes it
harder to be there, but we try, and if someone really needs us, we do our best
to be there.
That’s how I know that if I ever needed something, my family
would be there in a heartbeat, lending all the support they possibly can.
They can drive me crazy sometimes, but I love my family, and I’m so lucky to have them!
