My wife and I had a repeat conversation regarding the holidays. Her family was, and still is despite lack of proximity, very close. Her brother and her mother speak to her regularly. Her mother calls at least every other day, and her brother often speaks to her daily. Prior to her Grandmother’s death, sugar cured rawhide (sweet and tough), they would have family gatherings that included cousins, second cousins, grandparents, play cousins (ask a black friend if you do not know what this is), friends and neighbors during “major” holidays. My family…. I didn’t see or speak to my mother or father for a month and they live two blocks from me. My sister lives next door, I mean literally next door to me and there are months that go by when we do not see or speak to each other. My sister in the next town I see during Christmas or near death experiences like my ninety-two year old grandmother survived. It is not that we do not care for each other … Hmmm? I wish I had a simple explanation but I do not. If my father calls in need, I am there. If my mother calls to “talk” I listen. If my sister next door needs her lawn mowed, I mow. Well, actually I send the boy to mow. What is the point of having a son 6’1” tall and 206 if he cannot push the mower. Lord knows the food he consumes devours my overtime pay. Nevertheless, I see that it gets done. I realize it is a reach, but I am going to take it and nothing will deter me. My wife feels left out when we are not all gathered together for a holiday. My mother may have a grandchild or two come by and eat, or my sister may invite my parents over, but rarely do we plan anything together. I wish I had an answer. I often justify our distance because of my father’s twenty-plus years in the Air Force. We did not have cousins, aunts, etc… nearby when I was growing up. We were forced to interact with each other ALL of the time. I appreciate what good friends we were to each other when I was a small pain in the arse of my brother and sisters, I mean small as in physical size not the amount of discomfort I caused, and the love and care the showered on me. I can recall so many wonderful moments with all of my siblings. My younger sister was the best kick ball player in the family. She could punt the football fifty yards and was fast enough to catch it before it hit the ground. We were best friends for a loooooong time. My brother was the stereotypical big brother. He was always in trouble but would never allow me to make trouble of my own, and when I was sly enough to escape his eye he always took the blame for me. (My parent’s assumed he was guilty and I was their angel and we didn’t want to disappoint them with the truth.) We were best friends for a loooooong time. My oldest sister was my teacher, confidant, protector and friend. She was always such a grown-up (still is) and I could count on her to forgive my indiscretions faster than my Labrador retriever. We had to both get old before I realized how much she gave up to take me with her everywhere when she could have been “out”. When everyone outgrew me and I was a pre-teen without transportation, my father was the one I played tennis, basketball, walked the dog, and threw the football and baseball with. My father is still my closest friend. When I am looking for something to do, I think of him first. He is quite the busy man, now that he is retired, with providing ninety-nine percent of my ailing grandmother’s care but he knows that he call count on me always. My brother and I have reconnected and we often get on each other’s nerves, but nothing has changed since we shared a room for sixteen years. Strange…. I seem to be missing them more than I have in years!