Finding Family

Family.  It is, for most of us, in the end, what matters most of all.  More than our jobs, our money, our house and our cars.  More than our golf game and our gardens.  Both the family that we originate from and as well, the family we create.

There’s a saying, “You can’t choose your family”.  But in many ways we do.  Because for many of us, our true family lies not just in blood relatives, but in the people we choose to be among for the most important moments of our lives.

I was born in 1960 to Frank and Lucille Duffy, is West Philadelphia.  The third of what would be four boys.  Mom had a daughter first, who did not survive.  I often think how different their lives would have been, and ours, if she had.  I think having a sister would have made me see things differently.  Today, many of our female friends are like sisters to me that it is a true blessing for me.

Most of us from back in the 1960’s didn’t realize the significance of family.  We came from neighborhoods of families with many children.  There was never a loss for company on holidays and birthdays.  And then, even as boys, we had our family of friends.  Boys we grew up with, literally in the streets, learning about life along the way.  About being brave, about girls, about everything.

I have four friends today that I have been friends with for 50 years.  And although we all have grown and evolved differently, that connection is as strong for me as the moments growing up in my old house, with my brothers and parents.  Sharing a bedroom with my three brothers on two sets of bunk beds.  Having, in many senses, two sets of brothers.  I have been very fortunate.

As we grow into adulthood, there is a time when we start feeling our own strength, not just physically, but emotionally.  We begin to step away from family and start to realize soon we will have families of our own.  We never realize at that time the pain it is causing our parents, to watch us, in essence, walk away for large chunks of time, present only to eat and sleep in our own beds.  For most of us it wasn’t like the Momma bird pushing the chicks out of the nest.  It was akin to Momma bird waking up one morning and noticing that the chicks had simply flown off, without leaving a note.

For me, it was mainly Mom, as Dad had flown the coup by the time I was 10.  As a boy, Dads father had left his family abruptly and with no notice, never to return, leaving him, his four siblings and his mom to fend for themselves.  So, basically, he grew up without a father figure.  Which explains why he sometimes came up short in the Ozzie Nelson department.  Mom took on the task of raising four of us on her own.  I still, to this day, don’t know quite how she did it.  It’s one of the things that makes me calm in times of tribulation, to know it can’t be all that bad.

Dad would reappear from time to time but never stayed.  And never, ever gave any advice.  I’m not sure I would have heeded any, but it would have been nice to have the option, you know.  We found each other more as friends after I was married and for years after that I became the father and he the son as he struggled through anxiety, and what I think overall, was a disappointment of what he had made, or more so, what he had failed to make of his life.

I was first married in 1984 and made a lot of mistakes of my own. They were mistakes of the emotional variety, thinking I had what I wanted, and then realizing, five years in, that it was not what I wanted at all.  We had a daughter, Jessica, who is about to turn 30 in a few weeks.  With every passing generation our mistakes become less and less damaging.  I have been a figure in my daughter’s life ever since she has been born and have never taken time away from her, until she was married.

I remarried in 2002 and have three stepsons as well, and by them, four grandchildren.  When I do anything for my daughter and her husband or the boys and their families, they are always overly appreciative.  My common response is, “If not for you, then for who?”.  I realized that my family happened around me when I was not looking.  And continues to grow.  You say the words, “No matter what you need” without even thinking them.  And not just out of obligation.  Out of need.  Your need.

You look at these grown children and start to realize you did not turn them into adults.  They evolved on their own.  Sure, you try to set an example.  You give them what you think they need.  But eventually, they turn into the people they want to be, regardless of your contributions.

What about the family we grew up with, the family we were born into?  Well, for me, much of that has disintegrated.  My dad passed in the early 2000’s.  I don’t speak to the majority of his family.  I was estranged from my oldest brother at the time he passed and haven’t spoken to his family since.  I see my other brothers occasionally but it’s as if they have their own family and I have mine.  We choose our own family.

And then, the family of friends we hold dear.  We don’t share the same DNA, but we share the same ideology, the same interests, and the love of a real family.

Coming from an Italian background I go a bit against the grain when it comes to children and family.  I’m of the mindset that we try and give the tools to make their life, and then let them actually make it on their own, for better or worse.  Every one of their setbacks is a setback for you, no matter how old they grow.  Mom, at 84, is right.  It never ends.  You never stop worrying and as Jason Robards said in Parenthood (the movie, not the TV series), “You never get to spike the ball, it’s never over”.

Here’s what you do get.  As you grow older, you do get to choose your family, both the blood relatives and the friends.  You get to decide who gets the first call after you good medical news.  Who gets the invite to Christmas dinner.  And who you want by your side when a big part of your world crumbles.  And you hope that the people you choose choose you too.

Whether it is a CEO or an athlete or a politician stepping away from the limelight, they all eventually utter the same statement, “I wanted to spend more time with my family”.  It’s easy to pinpoint that 99% of the time they’re lying.  It’s just the right thing to say.

And then there are those that have suffered a fall from grace, and claim to be so fortunate that they have their family, “standing by their side”, when often that is not the case.  See, if family is what matters most for you, you don’t fall from grace.  Because before you do whatever it is wrong you did, you think of your family, and then, you don’t do it.

Most of real life is not about the Ewing Family, or the Carrington Family.  It is for the most part, boring.  Maybe not boring, but, well, steady.  There aren’t alcoholic rages and affairs, no crimes of passion.  But there is happiness.  Pain.  Sadness.  Excitement.  Laughter and tears.

I read the obituaries every day.  Not a day goes by when I don’t read about a 90 year old who lived the perfect life and died peacefully, at home, in bed, surrounded by his loving family.  In real life, I’ve never heard about that happening.  Usually it takes place in a hospital room, maybe one or two family members there and the passing takes place while your down at the cafeteria having a salad.

Not to be preachy, but don’t define your family by what it has been and by what it is supposed to be.  Family should never be defined by obligation.  Or by commitment.  Or by history.  It should be defined as, “You are the person I want next to me as I move forward in my life, and this is why”.

It’s never too late to find your family.  The family you want.