Earth Experiences #7: Family
Both given and chosen
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My mom was born into a family of eight siblings: Jimmy, Sissy (Caroline, my mom), Sally, Chuck, Mimi, Ketty, Brent, and Kurt. When I was little, I still had my maternal grandparents and my maternal great-grandmother (Granny—aka, Sally Twyford, six-time USBC Women's Championships titleist) on this earth. Jimmy had three kids; Mom, Sally, Chuck, Mimi, Ketty, and Brent each had two; and Kurt had one. My childhood was filled with cousins and fun and an abundance of family love.
We had gatherings often—cousins running and laughing and swinging on tire swings and jumping through creeks in Brown County. At night, sitting by campfires, roasting marshmallows, listening to guitars, and singing along. And as divorces happened, families were rearranged, and new family members came into the picture, my family took them all in—former spouses, new spouses, new stepkids, everyone.
No one, young or old, is ever left out.
In fact, my family still fully embraces my ex-husband. It is both a beautiful thing to witness their inclusion and a difficult one as well, knowing as they do, the things he has said and done. They also, of course, understand the things I have said and done. What my family understands is that no one is perfect. But also: no human is disposable. And no one—ever—gets left behind. He is, after all, the father of my four beautiful children. And that will never change.
The first of those eight amazing siblings to leave us went far too soon. My handsome, successful Uncle Jimmy (aka, Greenfield’s beloved Dr. Anderson) died in April 2016, leaving a huge hole in our lives and in our hearts—and in the hearts of the community he served for so many years.
In 2021, our family’s deluge of loss began. Kind, fun-loving Uncle Brent left us unexpectedly at the beginning of June 2021 due to a tragic accident. We were shocked to say goodbye to Brent and still reeling from his death when our sweet cousin, Brook, lost her long, courageous health battle and left us just two weeks later. Five days after that, my beloved, beautiful, hilarious, fun, kind, loving mom died. Sixteen months later, I lost my only sister, Carrie, at age 58 to glioblastoma. My little immediate family unit of three, gone in an instant.
Soon after Mom died, my stepdad, Bob (who is really the only dad I’ve ever known), was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and his son and daughter-in-law moved him into their home to care for him. They are saints on earth, those two, and we wanted to be able to help when we could, so Julie and I moved to Florida to be their back-up caregivers.
We’re with Bob this week, enjoying his sweet smile and the witty one-liners he still surprises us with from time to time. He and Sissy have a mutual love affair with each other. She looks for him first thing in the morning, and he asks about her as soon as he comes out of his bedroom for breakfast. Their bond is special, and it’s such a joy to witness. She’s typically resembles Looney Tunes’ Taz with everyone else—grunting, snorting, and spinning like an unpredictable tornado—but she somehow knows to be slower and gentler with Bob.
Dogs. They are the best of us.
In some serendipitous timing, my Aunts Ketty and Mimi and my Uncle Kurt are all vacationing five minutes away in St. Pete. On Tuesday, Kurt bought a slew of his favorite breaded grouper sandwiches, and they all—my family plus two friends from Indiana—came to spend the day with us.
Here is what I find so incredibly special about my family: their unconditional love, acceptance, and inclusion. The friends that came with them were not just friends, they were family. And regardless of where I am or what I have experienced in my life, they just open their arms and hug me no matter what. No judgment. No questions. Just love.
That love is critical for anyone, but it’s even more important for someone who is in the LGBTQ+ community. So many of my community members are not so lucky. So many of them have been “othered” and virtually abandoned by their families because of personal and religious beliefs. And let me assure you—my aunts and uncles were raised with a strict Catholic upbringing. They still talk about god and heaven. They still believe they’re going to meet their parents and their siblings and their other loved ones in heaven. But they don’t believe I’m going to be left out of that reunion because of who I love.
That’s true family. Whether you’re born into it or you get to choose those who treat you the way you deserve to be treated, stick with them. Find them. Run to them. Embrace them. Be grateful every single day for them.
And if you need a family, you can share mine. You’ll be greeted with a hug, and they’ll never let you go.
Beautiful. All of it. In every way. Thank you for sharing. 😊
Oh, my goodness, this is SO beautiful, Katrina. Your family knows NO strangers and that is such a gift that just keeps on giving. Those signature eyes that I notice within the women especially and it does feel like one long group (((hug)))❣️ This made my day to read. Thank you for going down memory lane and taking me with you. Here's to creating more and I sense there IS always enough room at the tables where you gather. Always. 💜