When Kris was 4 years old, he got cancer--Leukemia. Devastating news to any parent. Though, to me, I grew up with his illness and so it was normal. He lived a short time but influenced many people for good during that time. He went into remission 7 times before he died 13 April (Good Friday) when he was only 13. I was 12.
It has been years since I remembered and celebrated his life. I suppose I have been too busy living or, more accurately, I made myself busy because it has always been too difficult to celebrate his life. So, I'd like to honor his memory by remembering and thanking my family, of which he is still considered a part.
I have a family; a wonderful, crazy, messed up, loving family! They are not perfect, but they are there for one another. And like a piece of old tough fabric, intricately woven together over time--this family has become beautiful, strong, determined, and steadfast. They are immovable. And I have to remember that it was this family, my family, who caught me, cradling me to safety, when my world came crashing down. They were my saviours...still are.
By modern society's definition, I have a large family. By Utah's standard's, it's a medium sized one: Mom & Dad, 8 kids, 12 3/4 grand kids. And when we are all together, (which is rare), it borders on resembling a chaotic musical, complete with our own theme music and voice over narration.
That, we can all agree, is Mom's doing. We are all musically inclined, thanks to her and her ability to use (sometimes) not so gentle persuasion to get us all to sing, play the piano/instrument, or, at the very least, to whistle a tune without modulating into a different key. When we were little, she had us singing and performing all over the community, often while wearing Raggedy Ann and Andy costumes! So, there was just no point in resisting the musical gene. (Pictured is Bethany playing dress-up at Grandma's house, in our old costumes).
My dad, on the other hand, has always claimed he must have been out playing in the fields when the talents were divvied out and, therefore, missed out on any such musical ability. While, I don't believe he's lacking in the talent department, I do think that's why he married my mom. She was soooo beautiful, had the voice of an angel and possessed more talent in her little pinkie than he thought he'd ever have in a lifetime.
We lived on the lower end of the middle class spectrum. Mostly this was due to the fact that my parents decided to have as many kids as God would bless them with and to make the sacrifices necessary to allow my mom to stay home with us while we were young. (This example set the stage for my belief and desire to sacrifice luxury to become a stay at home mom, myself. This was subconsciously ingrained in me as the ideal, so, I strove towards that goal at all costs).
It's easy to get lost in a large family, but I think all individuals, who grow up with siblings, know that everyone has their own unique place in the family. My family is no exception. These are my perceptions: My oldest brother was the talented one: musician, actor, playwright, director, (even if it was only for pretend on the playground) and we mustn't forget, he was THE boss--our moral compass to condemn or condone our actions. My oldest sister: the beautiful one and the ring leader--if she decided it was worth doing, we all followed along. My second oldest sister: the peacemaker and the crafty one. My older brother (Kris): the entertainer and jokester. Me: I was, simply put, the middlest (all that that implies) and I was known as Happy Jacq. My younger brother (Joey): forever the baby. My youngest sister: the compassionate one and 'the shimmering glowing star in the cinema of firmament!' My youngest brother: the easy going trumpet player who every one of us love, admire and adore.
Not a whole lot has changed since then. The major difference is we grew up and I don't think we see each other as ONLY these things anymore. Though, I think it does takes us by surprise sometimes when THE boss no longer tells us what we should be doing, but rather, listens and sympathizes. Or when the compassionate one takes a firm stand, demanding justice instead of mercy. Or when when the peacemaker instigates an argument and fights to the death. Or when the beautiful one doesn't think she is stunning. Or when the happy one...well, isn't laughing anymore.
Through the years, my family has stuck together and supported each other during very difficult times. I knew this from past experience, so, it's surprising, looking back on it, that while I was in my marriage and was isolated from these friends, I began to believe I had no one on the outside that cared for me. I believed my family was my enemy. That they were disappointed in me and the person I had become. I believed that if I left my marriage, I would be labeled 'the divorced one', and therefore, I wouldn't be accepted, but would be shunned. I truly believed I would have no where to go and I would be a single mom alone.
What a sense of relief and enpowerment I have felt, as my life came crashing down around me breaking into a million little pieces, as I have found out that I'm not alone, but am surrounded, held up, and sustained by my family.
Thank you, family!
