Today I’m blogging from the road
because we took a family vacation to see relatives on the East
Coast. Thanks to
Facebook, I get to keep up on their lives (and political leanings) more than I
would normally would. However, nothing beats the face-to-face time over wine or
a good Memorial Day cookout.
The time with these
not-immediate-but-much-loved family members naturally makes me think of the odd
mish-mash of personalities that comprise a “family.” When my kiddos are
bickering with each other, I tell them they need to learn to get along because
they’re family. And because they will spend the rest of their lives with people
they may not necessarily mesh with. Co-workers, roommates, spouses… Learning to
get along is part of living in society. Learning to get along and love the
other person is part of being in a family.
Which reminds me of my own
family. I’ve kicked a couple mother figures out of my life over the years, and
that action might be unconscionable to some. It was necessary for my mental and
emotional well-being, but it also puts me in a somewhat unique frame of mind
where my writing is concerned. I recently sent a short story to my critique
partner, who commented that my heroine—who had fallen into an alternate
universe—should be freaking out about her family. Did they know she was gone,
how worried was her mom that she was missing, how much would she miss them if
she could never go back…
Huh. That aspect never crossed my
mind. Maybe because to do so would be detrimental to keeping my story a “short”
story. But probably because of my unusual family situation. I don’t consider my
parents in relation to my own life; it doesn’t occur to me to consider family
in relation to my written characters.
Which is sad, I know. And
definitely something I need to work on.
Memorial Day was also about
honoring those military people and families who have sacrificed so I
can enjoy a cookout with my East Coast family. While my family was spending
time together, hubby’s older brother was elsewhere in the country, lamenting
the loss of his brothers-in-arms. Of those men and women he had fought beside,
only a few had made it back home alive. Those who did (himself included), now suffer the guilt of
surviving in addition to the trauma of their battle experience. When we express
our gratitude for those who have sacrificed their lives for the freedoms of our
country, we’re not just talking those who died or were physically injured. I am thankful to ALL our service men and women...former, current, and future. It is truly a calling.
So, my random thoughts for the
week aren’t all that uplifting, but they’ve been circling in my brain and needed
expressing. How was your Memorial Day weekend?
Hope you're having a good vacation. I enjoyed your random thoughts.
ReplyDeleteHave a great vacation, Ava! Our Memorial Day was quiet and restful - the best kind!
ReplyDeleteYour random thoughts are always enjoyable and worthwhile--don't stop, okay? Glad you're having a good trip...hugs, baby!
ReplyDeleteEnjoy your vacay!!
ReplyDelete