“That’s what people do who love you. They put their arms around you and love you when you’re not so lovable.” ― Deb Caletti
“I sustain myself with the love of family.” ― Maya Angelou
A family has always been a big deal for me. When I was growing up, it was a place I called home. I felt wanted, loved, and encouraged. Was it perfect? Not by any measure. We all held our measure of imperfection. It didn’t matter, it was family. Mom and dad always held an open door and waited for me with open arms.
When I married Babe, we decided we would be a family filled with love. We wanted our five girls to know their mom and dad loved each other and modeled their love for them. We loved, we laughed, we celebrated, we cried, and we forgave. Through it all, we remain a family.
All through Babe’s suffering and death, the five girls rallied around me. They sustained me. They did it because that is what loving families do.
All through my grieving period, their love was the foundation from which I gleaned strength, courage, and determination to go on. Why? Because it is what loving families do.
Family is the place we come from and where we feel we can always return.
Family is the place where, in spite of differences, when the chips are down, we count on each other.
Not everyone has the same experience of family as I did. It is never too late to create a sense of family. It takes two people who care deeply about each other. Two people who dare venture into tomorrow. And, two people who will always have each other’s back. I found strength in my large family. I hope you find strength in your family.
The state appropriated four towns and flooded them to provide water for Boston and 40 other communities. The reservoir is one of the largest man-made reservoirs in the U.S. Soon after moving to Belchertown, I rode my bicycle out to Quabbin. I had no idea it existed at the time. My route, not by design, took me past Quabbin, I turned in, crossed a huge dam and soon began to climb a steep road, a mile long. The view from the dam and climb were breathtaking to me. When I reached the top, I pulled my bicycle into a pullout and stared at the water, huge hills jutting out of the water, and eagles soaring high in the sky. Excitedly, I rode home, packed Babe and the girls in our Volkswagen van and headed back to Quabbin. As months went by, we always enjoyed hiking and berry picking in Quabbin. Yet, the initial excitement and wonder disappeared. We became used to it. I think that is why we need storms in our life to appreciate the sun. I don’t like the pain, nor wish pain for anyone, but the storms turn on a gratitude button within me that I want to make present 24/7.