Thoughts on Far-Flung Living

I don't know if any family members besides my sister still read this blog, but I am aware that the following might feel a little tender to them.  I sincerely hope that there are no hurt feelings over this, and apologize for any offense given--it truly is not intended.

I was incredibly blessed when I was a kid.  I know this, now, but at  the time never thought anything of it.  I grew up surrounded by people who loved me and worked hard to raise me.  I spent days on end surrounded by grandparents (two living sets and two great grandmothers!), aunts and uncles who spoiled me rotten (and made me the scape goat) and countless cousins.  I never had a sporting event, school concert, commencement ceremony, or talk in church go unattended by at least three people from my extended family.  Every holiday meant a trip to the store with my Grandma Bev and a new outfit for the occasion, and weekends meant sleeping over in my own special bed at Grandma Doris' house, and bike rides with Grandpa Joe. 

I was--AM--truly cherished.  I know this.  My grandparents were my biggest supporters, my truest cheering section.  As I grew older, my Grandma Bev became one of my best friends in the world.  She passed away last year, and her funeral was while I was hospitalized having baby Jojo.  One of my comforts from that time is knowing that both of my grandmothers got to spend some quality time with him before he came to me. 

As I started having kids, my grandparents cherished my children, as well.  Jooj and I lived at Grandma Bev and Grandpa Kent's home for the first few weeks of her life.  Grandma Doris sent packages every chance she got.  Even though we haven't been able to visit in a long time, Jooj speaks often of the hours she spent on Grandpa Kent's "farm," where he let her pick vegetables and pushed her in the swing.  She  knows he cherishes her.  She knows it.

And here is where my sadness comes in.  Because I wanted this life--the life I had, surrounded by my village, for my children.  But the Lord had different plans for my little family.  We live far away from everyone.  We try to visit as often as time and finances allow, but it is not often.  And we don't live in fun destinations for family vacations to come to us.  And we don't live near inexpensive airports.  And we had our children last--after just about everyone else was done.  And we are not loud and demanding.  And so?  My children are growing up without family. 

We cobbled together family in El Paso--stand-in grandparents and cousins and people who made my children know that they were cherished.  We were there for almost eight years--time to develop relationships and traditions and forge a lasting bond.  I miss my El Paso family as much as I miss my extended family.  But here?  We don't have that yet.  And I don't know that we will have enough time to cultivate it before the Army sends us somewhere else.  And I know we have signed up for that lifestyle--I am not complaining at all. 

But sometimes I look at my children and I wonder if they know what they are missing by not seeing grandparents more than every few years.  If they know what they are missing by not growing up side-by-side with cousins.  If they know what they are not missing by having a favorite Aunt to spoil them.  I know what they are missing, and I try harder to make sure that We are enough for them.  That our little family of five is all the village that they need.

And that is why, sometimes, we go to the fair on a weeknight.