The Point of Relationship: Blood Family, Married Family, Chosen Family

I don’t remember when it was, or with whom, that we first started talking about chosen family, but I do know that it was long ago. Paul and I both felt, I know, that we were blessed with our chosen family, and that some of our chosen family was also our blood family and our married-into family. I remember back to when we invented “the outlaws” — in that case, when we invented it, it was the relationship between all the people who had married into the Creelman family (and soon, the Skrobela family).

With my good friend JB (Jonathan, to some of you) I also discovered and worked out a couple of concepts that have become touchstones for me. One is “the point of faith.” It’s like a point of no return — once you pass it, your relationship is never the same again. For a while you know that you care a lot about someone, probably the caring is mutual. It doesn’t have to be romantic, often is isn’t, you just care. But you’re not sure if the thing is just temporary. In two years will I still be in touch with this person? Some trouble comes up that mainly manifests itself as losing touch. You don’t see each other so often, one of you doesn’t call the other one back. You go through a series of thoughts: they’re busy, I’m busy; did I do something wrong? did they ever really care, or was it an illusion? are they OK?? Then you get back in touch and you figure out that most of what you thought wasn’t true, there’s some explanation. Maybe you go through this several times. Then one day you realize that you’re probably GOING to go through this, and they DO care about you and you about them, and you’re GOING to be back in touch eventually, even if it takes months or years.

The other concept is “the point of relationship.” This is as if you were related by blood or marriage. It doesn’t end just because whatever it was that tied you together ends. You don’t stop being a daughter-in-law just because your husband dies or you get divorced. Even if you never were related legally, some people just never leave your life no matter what, even if you never see or hear from them again. They are so close that they are your family, whether by blood or marriage or choice — or none of the above! It can be sad sometimes, but it can also be a thing of beauty, a thing that makes your world whole.

Somehow the last couple of months have been a big exercise in all of that for me. It just took a defining moment for me to realize …

Let’s start arbitrarily with pre-Thanksgiving, when Doug and Lynne came to visit. That was chosen-blood (and married into) family at it’s best. High points were some wonderful dinners and just talking, and trying on and throwing out old FAT clothes.

The Wallowitch & Ross record and show. That was hard for me because I felt I didn’t take good care of them in the record release process, which went on and ON, partly due to circumstances and partly my fault. (A lot of you probably don’t even know that I’ve released two new records, one by Karen Oberlin honoring Doris Day, and one by John Wallowitch and Bertram Ross, honoring crazy old songs. Go see www.mirandamusic.com if you’re interested!) Without Ben it probably wouldn’t have happened. I had a yelling fight with John Wallowitch (or really, I yelled at him) because I felt guilty for being neglectful and he managed to touch my guilt with some criticism. He’s been Mr. Sweetheart since!

Then Thanksgiving, with Ben visiting here. Who is Ben? That’s a hard one to figure out. On the other hand, figuring it out seems to matter less as time goes by. We’re past the point of relationship as far as I’m concerned. And for Thanksgiving dinner itself, Rosemarie was here to help me cook a turkey — which believe it or not I have never done! (I’ve said that Rosemarie is almost like my next-of-kin. She was there like bricks when Paul was going through all his surgeries, even when she had to face her own. We now have discovered the joys of sharing: we buy-one-get-one and each one takes one, or we cook large amounts and give each other half.) Meanwhile Ben was with his sister Beth, her fiance, HIS family, and their soon-to-be-born baby. More family twists … and half the leftover turkey went to Beth.

Working at William B. May. It’s only part-time, a computer project scanning their documents so they can cut down the paper glut. But I get to hang out with them, and to understand why Paul loved so many of those people so much. And to understand why he loved Brooklyn Heights, too.

The Grace choir: singing my magnificat (Marthy came to hear it, one of my OLDest chosen family!); lessons and carols (I couldn’t go to the Christmas Cotillion dance, led by Helene, another chosen family member whose whole family is part of Paul’s and my family); Christmas Eve; Epiphany!

A visit to Massachusetts and all the Butch Creel kids and grandkids and spice. They played the movie “Spirit” on Marna & Michael’s amazing Entertainment Center (you have to capitalize it). That movie was a good lesson in the joy and sadness of roots and chosen family…

Writing Christmas letters to a couple of folks who had dropped out of email. Learning that Ange had died last summer…

Ben again, through New Year’s.  JB singing “We’ll be together again” on my voice mail. Some of my favorite performers doing “slow season” cabarets.

Ben’s mother Sandy here to attend the birth of that baby. Paul’s Mom died. I took Rosemarie to the hospital for surgery and bit my nails with her until the good news came. Paul’s brother Peter went for surgery, still biting nails over that.

No baby, no baby, no baby. Induced labor, extending Sandy’s stay … long labor, long BABY (22 inches, 8.5 pounds, named Walton) — and some confusion, some lack of communication, some seriously ruffled feathers: it ended up that I was the one to tell Ben that the baby had arrived, and he told his friend Alicia, and SHE told Ben’s father. There are reasons, but still the feathers are ruffled. Alicia and I talked and wondered together whether our part in it all was good or bad. I thought hers was good but questioned mine. She thought the reverse. When we said goodbye to each other all I could think was, what a sweetheart.

She and I have both passed the point of relationship with that whole family and so, somehow, with each other.

And that is a thing of beauty.