Christmas, Hanukkah, Easter, Passover, 4th of July, Memorial Day, birthdays, graduations, and every other major or minor life event in between: all excuses why we must suffer through another family gathering, not drunk enough but too drunk all the same, or horrifyingly sober and doomed to watch the shoddily knit lovey we call family unravel as Frankie Junior, Jr. and Uncle Al turn beet red over politics at the dining room table, or Aunt Sharon and Cousin Sally realize they’ve both been shunned by Cousin Julie for the past two Labor Day barbecues, or your sister-in-law criticizes your mother’s cooking too loudly and everyone jumps your brother in the kitchen to tell him to keep his wife under control. Why we think we should be on anything but our best behavior with our families is a mystery yet to be solved; or is it just that our friends allow us the freedom to be obnoxious? That we allow ourselves to laugh at each other when we get belligerent? That we expect to be chastised, gently, when we do and don’t snap back but snap to it? Or do we hold ourselves in check among friends, knowing that if we provide too much unsolicited or unfiltered or unkind (but honest!) advice, chances are we won’t find ourselves among friends as often as we’d like?
One of my best friends has all but stopped attending family gatherings because her family refuses to accommodate her (somewhat overwhelming) food allergies. Another suffers through them with more wine than Jesus served at the Last Supper. A third avoids as many obligatory dinners as possible, but shows up late for the important ones and leaves early. And some of us are blessed enough to live far enough away from our families that we can show up when we want to without feeling the guilt of not wanting to be there as often as we’d be invited.
As much as I am grateful that living so far from family means not having to make up excuses every Sunday for why I can’t “pop by” my mother’s house for dinner, I have to admit it still stings a little to be home, alone with the kids on a typical family-gathering event, whether it’s a birthday, a holiday, or a Sunday. Cars line our street for every major holiday, as I happen to live next to a woman who could have been my mother: nothing brings her more joy (or more stress) than having her children, grandchildren, sisters, in-laws, and family friends over for a meal.
And so, missing my own mother, father, sisters, in-laws (just kidding), and family friends, I have had to recreate an extended family for myself. My friends and I have been known to gather for brunch, disband to our own homes for children’s naps, and then reconvene post-nap for round two, which lasts until the sun has gone down and the children are yawning as they play and denying that they are exhausted. We celebrate birthdays, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, and other festivities together, but needing somewhere to be on a Sunday afternoon post-naps is as much a cause for a party as anything else. Most of the time, we can’t get enough of each other, unable to individually bear the weight of entertaining children stuck inside in the rain or watching them nervously as they ride their bikes down busy side streets. We lean on each other to fill the gaps in our days, weeks, months, and year, yearning for the connection that extended family provides yet avoiding the forced connection that family demands.
With neighbors, an invitation for the children to play becomes a glass of wine for the adults and often leads to “throwing something on the grill” and eating a meal together. A quick hello while walking the dog becomes an afternoon playdate in the backyard or meet-up at the park. With each casual encounter comes an opportunity to get to know each other better. Perhaps it is because with friends and neighbors, we rarely are invited into the intimate details of their day-to-day lives that we find these encounters so fulfilling. Maybe it is because we respect them as individuals, distinct and separate from ourselves.
Ironically, it is exactly the emotional boundaries that exist between friends that make it possible to overstep physical boundaries the way we do. And yet, the lack of boundaries between family members, between partners, and between parents and children makes it difficult to get through happy hour, much less the full meal. Something happens in these relationships that forces us, or allows us, or makes us believe we can or should transcend these boundaries, often to the detriment of our relationships with people. If only we could keep ourselves in check, respect our family members for the individuals they are–separate and distinct from ourselves. If only we treated family like we treated friends, we might not perpetuate such conflict-ridden family dynamics. Instead, we grin and bear it or make excuses for not showing up for our family, when in reality they are the only people who have to show up for us.
(mostly) full disclosure 