I stumbled upon the pictures ) good ole Facebook) from my oldest grandchildren’s baptism today. 5 years ago we baptised the oldest two,in Silver Spring Maryland, where my oldest daughter was living. There are hundreds of memories in those pictures, glimpses of dad in the fog that possessed him that day, George holding tightly to his children, and grandchildren, Ryan being hoisted into the air by the best pastor ever….
But what hit me, what smacked me and stroked me at the same time, was the bond between our children. Solid, physical and spiritual, evident. They have had their moments. They have yelled at, avoided, ignored, used and hurt each other over the years, but in the end, in the clinch, in the moment when push comes to shove, they come through. They defend. They support and love each other, no matter what. They show up, kicking and screaming, but they show up. We have heard, years later, of late night runs to shady stores to wire money to Joe, long conversations into the night about boyfriends or girlfriends or roommates, of phone calls to ex’s — warning them off, of “loans” and “gifts” and “borrowed uggs”. We have seen them sit for hours, supporting each other after life events that rocked us all off our center and heard them scream until their throats are hoarse. They have suffered through therapy sessions. visits to people they don’t want to see, college tours and they have, for the last 19 years, kept the pact they made to never tell me who broke the Nativity Set….
I love them more than life. I respect them and I envy their closeness. Most of all, I am somewhat calmed and reassured by the fact that they will have each other long after I am gone. that they will support each other through anything, celebrate success and fight through the crap.