Family Matters

While this entire website is something of a meditation on family, this post is a place for me to explore the topic in more depth.

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It has taken me a long time to recognize what an important role family holds over a lifetime. I think my evolving recognition is pretty typical, though it’s one of those lessons they never really teach you in school. Maybe if I write this down, it will help me or someone to follow.

Growing Up

In my youth, there was mainly my Mom, Dad and myself. Len had already moved out by the time I was four. I have memories of Sue and Laurie being home in South Miami but not many of us all doing things together. When we were in Aruba and I was seven, Sue and Laurie headed off to college, boarding school and the rest of their lives. We would still see them with some frequency but they quickly started to become something more like friendly aunts rather than immediate sisters to me.

Combing back through all my photos, I could only come up with these few pictures of us as a family during the first two decades of my life. I couldn’t find a single one of just Mom, Dad and me, other than us in a gondola in Venice. The lack of photos is not meant as an indictment, just an indicator. We were together but not especially close-knit.

I was fine enough with our little nuclear family and didn’t really consider that I wanted or needed more. From early on, I felt I had an advantage coming later in my parents’ lives. They went through their own learning curves with my sisters, and my sisters thoroughly broke them in. My parents largely left me to my own devices, which was fine with me. Plus, we were well enough off to be comfortable — more than comfortable once we got to Hong Kong. I wanted for nothing and was perfectly fine with being an only child (virtually).

I was aware we were part of a larger extended family, especially on my Mom’s side, but we didn’t really have a lot of connection to them. We would visit Valdosta more or less annually before we moved to Hong Kong when I was 13. I dreaded visits to Valdosta. There were a few family members there I enjoyed being around, most notably Mom’s sister, Sister, but mostly it was an exercise in Southern Gothic boredom. Susie and Pop-pop were old and a little bit creepy (maybe more than a little bit). Most of the rest of my Valdosta aunts, cousins and families were almost caricatures of Southern bluster and charm. The food was good but I certainly didn’t fit in or feel part of their world. I haven’t been back in five decades and didn’t stay in touch with anyone from that world. On my Dad’s side, Joe and Helen Barnett were based in Milwaukee and we’d see them only sporadically. Later in their lives, we stayed somewhat connected them and their daughters, Susan and Leecy (but never their sons, Bob and Bill), but I can’t say we were close.

There wasn’t much family history beyond my grandparents known or shared, or at least little spoken of. I knew very little about Mom’s side of the family and only slightly more about Dad’s. I got the sense that Mom and Dad were happy and proud of escaping Valdosta and building their lives elsewhere around the world. Researching and learning more about the family history in the last year or so for this website has finally sparked a desire within me to connect with some of the Valdosta relations, but I haven’t actually made any connections yet and I’m not sure I will actually follow through.

I was never particularly close to my Dad. I always considered him somewhat intimidating, demanding and distant. He commanded and valued respect and hard work, but there wasn’t a whole lot of love or affection on the surface. We were maybe closest in Coral Gables when I was 9 or 10 and I was a more or less willing fishing buddy with him but that didn’t last very long for either of us. By the time I was a teenager in Hong Kong I could barely speak to him. Later in life we reached a level of mutual respect and toleration but not a whole lot of affection. I rarely if ever felt I could go to him with problems or to explore life’s deeper mysteries…like, what was going on in this picture?

I was closer to Mom, and she was more openly loving but our conversations rarely got beyond the superficial. Mom was very uncomfortable with conflict or negative thoughts. She just wouldn’t go there. She was aligned with Dad in almost any situation — except when she was on the boat with us and would unfailingly start steering for home. I feel like maybe I’m giving Mom short shrift and not enough credit. She was dedicated and to an extent sublimated to the family. And yet, as a family I’m not sure what sort of score you would give us. I know Mom felt bad that each of her girls eventually got divorced; maybe she took it as a personal failing on some level but I can’t be sure of that.

When I met Barb in Hong Kong I got to know her family and encountered a very different model. Barb’s parents were more open, affectionate and much more conversational with their daughters than I was used to. They actually valued discussion and dissenting opinions, something that was pretty much unheard of in our house. They quickly allowed me in the circle, even more so once Barb and I went to college and the Fishers moved to Northern Virginia. I greatly enjoyed dinner times around their table with Fred usually leading the evening’s discussion, always drawing out opinions and thoughts from everyone. I got good at lurking through the discussions and throwing out occasional zingers that were usually well appreciated.

Barb’s family, however, was also short on extended family connections and history. Louise had a sister, Leona, in Arizona and Fred had a brother, Larry, in Detroit, but neither were especially well regarded by Fred and Louise. Barb had been close to her mother’s mother, Nanny, who lived with them in Italy but she passed away long before I entered the picture. I met Fred’s parents a couple of times but there was not a lot of love or affection there. Perhaps Betsy can share a more complete picture if I get a chance to sit with her to investigate.

Fred’s mother, Helen, had an extensive family history and was proud to be a Daughter of the American Revolution (or at least eligible for it) but because Barb and Betsy were adopted it was as if that heritage did not extend to them. In any case, I didn’t learn about her long family history until decades later when I stumbled upon her scrapbook.

An important factor in my childhood and Barb’s, as it turned out, was our rootlessness — the constant moving from place to place. We had no real sense of home base. Valdosta was certainly NOT where I felt my family was from, nor Florida, really, and not New Jersey. For a time in my teens and twenties I felt like Hong Kong was home, but it was hard to convince anyone else of that, and the feeling faded by the time I was 25 or so. Barb’s family had a similar sense of rootlessness. We were all sort of free agents, blowing where life’s breezes took us. All of which is to say, my feeling growing up was that family was something to escape from rather than to cherish and be part of.

Married Life and Allie

After Barb and I got married, we formed a tight little unit between ourselves and a circle of friends, mostly from Barb’s school or work worlds. We maintained a close relationship with Barb’s parents and a strained one with mine. Barb never was able to break the ice with my Mom or Dad (nor they with her) and never felt comfortable. Meanwhile, Betsy married Joe and the four of us (or six, with the Fishers) had many good times together for most of the 1980s.

When Louise passed away in early 1989, the family dynamics started to change. Fred started drifting away, eventually remarrying, moving away and making a hurtful choice to engage more closely with his new wife Fran’s family rather than ours. In the early 1990’s, Barb and I moved to Maryland to ease commutes to our jobs and soon Betsy and Joe had Sara. Both events made it harder to see as much of each other.

I have to admit I was slow to want any children at all. I enjoyed life with Barb, being able to travel and eat out often. We were well enough set in our careers that we could go pretty much anywhere whenever we wanted. We took good advantage of the opportunity to explore local restaurants, B&B’s, and take a trip or two each year to more exotic locales. I looked forward to an early retirement to do more of the same. It seemed like a child would crimp that lifestyle, delay retirement and be expensive down the line.

I didn’t have much sense of the positive aspects of having more family members — the experience with my own family and the loss of Barb’s parents didn’t make the prospect terribly appealing. By 1990, all my sisters were divorced and dealing with multitudes of their own problems. Families seemed to come with their own set of obligations and heartaches; for a long while I selfishly thought it was better to avoid them.

As we moved into our mid-30s and many of our friends had kids, both of us slowly warmed to the idea of having a child…Barb more quickly than I. Once it became clear that Barb wanted a child, I was ready and happy to go along for the sake of keeping her happy. I felt I was in no position to deny her that life experience but it was a leap into the unknown.

Actually having Allie and holding her in my arms was a literal life-changing experience. Within a few exhausted days I became aware of a whole new level of unconditional love. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her, and I was willing to make any change needed to build a good life for her and Barb.

Barb, Allie and I stayed close and formed a tight nuclear family, especially once I stopped working and was able to spend more time being a Dad. Our lives revolved around each other. Seeing Allie grow into a real human, and a fine, cute one at that, was a great pleasure and treasure. Trying to help keep her safe, learn new things, try, fail and master new skills was the most cumulatively rewarding experience I’ve ever had…other than meeting Barb in the first place, to be fair. Like the Grinch, my heart expanded many times over. I genuinely didn’t expect that.

Barb and I had no real thoughts of having more children, or at least I can’t recall it being an extended topic of discussion. I thought we were lucky to have one kid turn out so well and didn’t want to press our luck. Also, it seemed much more economically affordable to just have one child rather than two or more. I was very happy with Allie and I think she was with us. It’s not like we really asked Allie, but if she ever wished for a sibling I don’t remember hearing about it.

I remember shortly after Allie was born, one of our Hekimian sales guys earnestly tried to persuade me on the merits of having a second child, most especially so Allie would have someone to play and bond with as she grew older. I’ve thought about his advice from time to time and have slowly come to think he probably was right. I didn’t recognize or value the many good reasons for Allie to have someone to share life’s experiences with, and to share in the burden of dealing with Barb and me as we age. I didn’t consider the matter from Allie’s perspective at all, which was selfish…though I’m not sure I would have changed my mind at the time. It’s taken me a long time to begin to think it might have been better to have at least one more child. I certainly have grown to appreciate having Laurie to talk to and share the responsibilities of our mature years. Who will Allie have?

There’s also the demographic matter of replacing ourselves. If everyone only has one child, the nation’s and the world’s economies become upended pretty quickly, as China is currently proving. There’s something to be said for sustained growth and demographic stability. I did not give those topics any thought at the time we could have done something about it.

Laurie and I talked in recent years and I was surprised to hear her express regret that she didn’t have more children. The relationship she seemed to have with Maggie through her teen years was one of the things that reassured Barb and me that having a single child was an appealing choice. To find out later that both she and Maggie (evidently) wish that Maggie had a sibling was eye opening.

Friends are fine, but they’re not family

For a time in my teens and 20’s and 30’s, I might have been convinced by the notion that having a good community of close friends was at least as valuable as family relationships. My experience over the succeeding decades has proved that family far outlasts friendships. Blood is much thicker than water…or alcohol.

Friends are good and healthy but they tend to wander off in their own directions over time. There’s a transactional, superficial level to friend relationships that makes it easy to drift away. That’s especially true with work friends. I’ve often felt a close sense of foxhole camaraderie with work buddies, but those relationships evaporate quickly once you’re not in the same foxhole.

We’ve had a lot of good friends, individuals and couples, that we were close to for many years but most of whom have drifted away. I don’t blame them, and certainly we would share the blame if any were assigned. It’s just that life moves on and friends tend to build their own lives…and their own families start to take precedence.

There’s a transactional, superficial aspect to family relationships, too, but there are multiple, inevitable, compelling life events that draw one back to family. Weddings, big anniversaries, deaths — they all roll through the calendar whether you want them to or not. They become increasingly important as time accumulates, too, so there’s a momentum to the cycle. There’s a gravity to families that’s inescapable and ultimately a very positive thing. Older people feel that gravity more intensely, which only now is starting to make sense to me. I’ve slowly come to realize that family means more and more over time.

Grandchildren?

Speaking in general terms — and not to put any pressure on Allie — but grandchildren seem kind of like the bonus round of life. I look forward to the prospect of spoiling a grandchild and having an excuse to take family vacations together, discovering new places and rediscovering old ones.

That said, I admit to being a pretty nonexistent uncle to my various nieces and nephew, much less to my grand nieces and nephews. There’s still time to change that, I suppose. Taking part in the Zoom Scattergories games that Sue helped start during the pandemic feels like a tiny step in the right direction. I thank Laurie for dragging me into them. I have a long way to go, but I’m starting to learn.

Lessons of later years

I’ve come to realize that family becomes crucially important as we age, particularly in our American/Western culture. Our country has precious few institutional resources for the aged. Reliance on yourself first, and family second is expected and there are few alternatives.

I learned these lessons first-hand dealing with Mom and Dad’s later years. Mom and Dad wanted to be self-reliant for as long as possible, which I fully understand. For a while they made do with home-care help in Riviera Beach but it was always tenuous at best — we only barely trusted the home-care people and wished that a family member was closer to truly help monitor their well-being. I’m grateful that Sue was relatively close and willing to take on much of the burden of care as time went by. Moving Mom and Dad into assisted living in Gainesville was a wrenching but necessary step, made easier for being near Sue. In the last years, you really need family around to help make things as tolerable as possible. That’s another reason to have more than one child, so you can spread the responsibility to help parents as they age.

Family History and Legacy

Having known so little about our family history, I didn’t miss it until I began to find out more in the course of working on this website. It turns out there’s a lot of history in these Duncan, Garbutt, Goodloe, Fisher and many other branches of our family trees. There’s a novelty to having just uncovered a lot of it lately, but now that we have a start, I think there’s more to learn and grow our own set of myths and legends.

I’ve lately come across the notion of seven-generation thinking: taking into consideration seven generations of forefathers (where you come from) and seven generations to come. The concept is credited to the Great Law of the Haudenosaunee, the founding document of the Iroquois Confederacy, the oldest living participatory democracy on Earth. It is based on an ancient Iroquois philosophy that: “In our every deliberation, we must consider the impact of our decisions on the next seven generations.”

I especially like this variant (not particularly well-sourced, even in Wikipedia, but I like it anyway):

A variation on the seven generation thinking where self is placed at the center is to expand the span of years that touches one’s own lifetime. According to this perspective, a person takes into account the oldest relative or family friend who touched or knew the person as an infant; for example, a great-great-grandparent of age 90. In the same way, the person should then consider the oldest relative or family friend who touched or knew that great-great-grandparent; for example, another 90-year-old person. Then the calculation runs forward to the infant whom the person might touch or know during his or her own lifetime; and by extension again, estimate the number of years when that infant might grow to old age and touch or know still another infant. In total this reaching into the past 180 years and into the future 180 results in the widest frame for understanding one’s place in the 360 year period over which one may be known and may know others. In other words, the fact of one’s own existence materially touches this very wide span of time.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_generation_sustainability

I think there’s great merit in this longer-term perspective. My humble hope is for this website to help bind our family closer, opening eyes to our history, hopefully making a positive impact upon generations to come into the next century, and encouraging them to carry the ball forward. Good luck and best wishes unto us all.