As adults my nephew and I laughed at the two of them together, instant friends.
We’d drive back to their home and meet the younger nephew and my nephew’s beautiful wife. She’s quite dazzling. Once in the house the boys and dog ran about the halls and rooms, the boys leading and the dog chasing. He was so happy, part of the pack. ‘They do this whenever anyone brings over their dog,’ she said , as the three slid by on the hard wood floor.
We had Macdonald’s he’d bought on the way home. He been telling me of the new train station and the horse show, the development of the neighborhood. The chasing and gleeful voices were interrupted for only for a moment while the boys digged in to Happy Meals and the dog wolfed down his meat patty. Then the sliding and chasing began a new before fort building with cushions took over in the basement.
I ‘d been to their house and enjoyed seeing it again. It reminded me of my brother’s house not so far away. A little smaller but with similar stories. I liked the bay windows and enjoyed the boys interacting with their mother and father. What a beautiful family. I just enjoyed being there seeing them and thinking how my brother who died too young would be so proud of his son.
The last time I was there my nephew showed me a computer he’d build much more powerful than those off the shelf. Now he showed me 3 d printing and resin and wire and explained this complex latest project. I could only think his grandfather, the engineer, would be so impressed with. I liked the interior change since I last was here, large pictures of boys faces done recently, a couch with fold away bed like our Aunt Sally had for her guests. “Your mother gave it to us.” She said.
The kids were coming and going with the dog following behind. My nephews work was government confidential so we didn’t talk work. We didn’t talk religion or politics but rather chatted like old friends. Surprisingly I’d forgotten meeting the littlest one as a baby. I don’t know how I did that but the mother showed me a picture. I texted my friend Laura who’d been with me and asked if s she remembered Of course. “He was very small.’ She texted. Mothers and grandmothers remember. And there was I in the picture holding the wee baby. And it all came back to me, sitting on their veranda in the back yard. I’d been watching the older one running about the back yard playing with the dog. Now I remembered so well. Now I remembered this baby I’d cradled in my arms, now a blond happy child playing with his brother. One or the other would intermittently break off and come to their mother or father to be hugged or touched throughout the day. Not so different from my dog who’d want or need a break from time to time. The parents were so calm, the children with so much higher energy and moods swinging like leaves on a tree.
I was thankful that God let me be apart of this loving family to see these brilliant healthy lively children in this fabulous home where there was no alcohol, drugs, rage or bombs and gunbsots sounding outside. Instead there was love and creativity and community. “It’s been a busy weekend , “ she said, “Friends have been dropping in with their dogs and kids all this long weekend.” A happy place. My nephew and she laughed telling a story of friends with small children and and a dog and some amusing tale.
About then my other nephew arrived to pick me up. My dog went on guard barking up a storm . That nephew surrounded by kids calling uncle annd barking dog quieted my annnoying mutt with soothing words and tone, the psychologist in him gentling the confused mutt who very quickly joined the uncle love fest. The brothers talked as hugs were shared all around. It was anll cryptic to me putting on shoes annd jacket thinking these men have a language between them where tone and words conveyed volumes more than AI could record. I’d said the same to the couple as they spoke to each other with that language of respect and love they shared, A bubble of intimacy like the old Get Smart spy bubble. The dog was okay again happy to be going outside despite h having to leave his little friends. They’d included him like one of theirs. Now he was excited to be going on to our next adventure.
My younger nephews wife was in the front seat, pregnant. She had that glow.Seven and a half month. Serenity coupled with readiness. To his dismay we dropped off my dog at the camper and drove onto Milestone’s Restaurant. A lovely place. I confess I enjoyed watching her walk, the slightly wider based gait, and distinctive appearance. As a young man I’d delivered a hundred babies and said, “Your doctors must be very pleased with you,” She had that look of robustness and health , and that look that spoke of the likeliest to have a good delivery. I remembered her mom and sister fondly meeting them all one Christmas at my brother’s home. I thought of my sister in law and what a great mother she was. She loved her sons and grandsons and these girls. I missed my brother.
I fear I talked too much. I don’t know why. They work in the same institutions I worked and more than wanting to teach or warn I just felt that maybe they’d understand. I feel alone so much with what I do. I realized too that with divorces and childless marriages I felt that these two were in the centre balancing home and work life. They did talk about their new home and their work. He described fixing things up and the two of them described gardening. I couldn’t help but think of my parents, Dad always doing projects about the home and mom so involved in her garden. My brother and sister in law had followed in this too. I spoke of my mother and brother’s involvement in the horticultural clubs and my grandfather the rancher and the cousin who raised Appalusias and built his own log cabins. It’s part of tradition.
I saw so much of the older ones in these young ones. I thought how proud my mother and father would have been of their grand children and great grandchildren. What a legacy they’d bestowed.
I told them of finding my mother’s great grandfather’s grave and the family grave behind the little church in Northern Ireland. I remember those grave stones going back hundreds of years. Now here was the family going forward. I was so thankful to be here and now, missing my brother, missing my parents and grandparents but knowing they were always here. We are not alone. I felt my brother and father looking through my eyes. There was this crowd of aunts and uncles and old folks looking over their shoulders too. I remembered the big family of old folk all white haired gathered to meet me when I came to visit. They remembers their sister boarding a ship to cross the sea and I’d flown across to return. Family. Stretching backwards and forwards and out to all the sides.
It felt good not to be alone. I liked everyone playing with my dog including him and seeing him so happy. I felt like him and was thankful. Part of a family, part of a pack, a tribe, the best of humanity.
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