New relationships and bigger tents (and penguins)

Claire gave me this bracelet for Christmas. The quote stamped into it reads, "forever hold your penguins dear." That's the title of an essay from a blog called 37days which has as its subtitle, "What would you be doing today if you only had 37 days to live?"  

When Claire gave me the bracelet, she also gave me a copy of the essay. However, in the post-Christmas clean-up, the essay was lost and I neglected to look it up online. Yesterday, in cleaning up the guest room for houseguest Robin's arrival, the essay appeared and I sat down to read.

One idea leaped off the page, cemented itself to my consciousness, and has thus far appeared to have taken up permanent residence. The idea is this: death ends a life, but it doesn't end a relationship. All that we need to do is to come to terms with the new relationship. We come to terms with a change. The relationship doesn't look or act like it did before. But it's there. And it hasn't lost any of its power to envelope and sustain and enlighten. That's all.

It's been now about couple of years since my dad passed away. And I chose to spend the day just like any other day. 

In the intervening years since the "new relationship" with dad began, there isn't a day in which I haven't been influenced by something he said or did. The relationship is as real and true and healthy as any in my life and shows no sign of losing strength. Everyone has a different take on these things (thank goodness) but for me, no need for memorials when the relationship is alive and well.

Rob's cousin, the aforementioned houseguest Robin, came to town primarily to see her son, Jason. Robin's husband, Bram, passed away unexpectedly several months after dad. Bram and Rob had adopted each other as brothers a long time ago, and Bram's mother was Rob's "Other Mother." (Rob always loved telling people that his brother married his cousin.) So, in the space of a few months Rob and I lost our dad and our brother. No matter whether or not these were strictly blood relations. They were part of the larger tent of family which welcomes all those that fit harmoniously (if snugly) inside.

Jason works for Rob's company, Dalsa. He got the job without telling Rob and the two spend their days passing in the Dalsa halls pretending like they're not related, even though everyone knows they are. Jason led us on a tour of the facility and all I could think of was how Bram's buttons must be bursting. Bram who counseled each and every one of his friends and family and friends of family about careers and goals and overcoming fears and moving forward. I'm learning that part of the new relationship with Bram is that we shoulder some of his work. Part of the new relationship with dad is that we shoulder some of his work. It's a lot of shouldering. 

Family is a strange thing. Once you hack away at the narrow labels and boundary lines, you open yourself up to some completely unexpected and all-encompassing things. Maybe that's why this day felt like any other day. It seems like the tent is big and bigger. Lately, besides houseguest Robin and her son Jason, the tent included: Sue Outcault who had been watching the dvd tribute about dad and invited us to come down to visit with her cousin Doug from Idaho; Rob and Daoud making plans for a big Afghan meal; me planning a visit with Nazhla during one of my next trips to DC; Uncle Paul and Rob and I interviewing dad's cousin about some family movies; sister-in-law Jenny and I planning our trip to Gettysburg; an email exchange with dad's friend Stuart Jenkins; a note - via my Uncle Dick - from another of dad's friends, Fred Andresen.  And that's just the last few weeks. The tent expands. And the relationships continue to grow.

"Forever hold your penguins dear" means that through all the penguins experienced in their frosty and harsh world, "...in the face of all the hardship and pain, progress continued - gorgeous baby chicks grew up to take the same long walks, to find partnership, to know relationship, to care for an egg through immeasurable odds... 

"And so do we humans... we persevere, even after the most anguished of losses, we continue, we put one foot in front of another for those long and sometimes lonely walks. And we arrive to find things changed." (37days)

Death ends a life. It doesn't end a relationship. It just can't.