My roots

This week I spent time with two of my relatives from my birth mother's family: My Aunt Joyce in Honeyoye Falls, NY and my Uncle Jim in Wrightsville, PA. Getting to know them better has given me a glimpse into who I am and makes me wonder about the role my family will play in shaping my own children.

Without a doubt I resemble this side of the family. I remember when my wife met my aunt right after we got married and how instantaneously she recognized the family resemblance. Since I was but five when my mother died of melanoma, these precious relatives are my only link to the woman who not only bore me and raised me in my early years but who taught me to read. Given my current profession of English professor, this is a significant contribution.

Besides having similar physical features to these relatives, I realize after spending time with them that I also share an emotional bond to them. After listening to their stories, some told in anger while others were told through tears, I saw in them a shared connection in the ways we care deeply for people. All of us long to make connections both with our families and with the outside world. Jim does so in an extraverted way while Joyce is bubbly and wears her heart on her sleeve. I was moved by how much love they have for me, in spite of it being years since they saw me. I was touched by the ways life has taken its toll on all of us but was moved by the ways they have risen above these trials and now see the deeper meaning behind the pain in their lives.

I know that my identity is mirrored in their eyes and, while I know our lives have their own unique twists and turns, we are connected and will always be family. In a year where I have become truly an orphan, this is good to know.