Hey Dad,
There’s so many directions I could take my response to your letter. I’ll trust my intuition will take me to the promised land.
First off, I didn’t know you were a bundle of nerves before your wedding. Well, I mean, I did because who ISN’T, but I didn’t know these were the reasons why.
It’s sad because I see myself in the dysfunction, too.
To be frank, I don’t think I accepted my sibling’s future spouses that well at the start either. And sadly I can say it was for a lot of the same reasons your family didn’t accept your marriage with Mom.
I felt abandoned, too.
We were close growing up—all us siblings. We used to have sleepovers in Rachel’s room and quote movie lines until 11-12 PM at night. It was hilarious. I’m sure you and Mom were kept up because of it, and you never complained about it.
I think you were happy that we were close.
Rachel was there for me in some of my toughest moments growing up—especially in high school. I remember she came back to see my Senior Night both for wrestling and football. It kind of reminds me of a quote from the popular show Succession.
"He kept us outside. But he kept everyone outside. When he let you in – when the sun shone – it was warm. Yeah, it was warm in the light."
It was warm in the light for me with my sister. When she gives you her attention, it’s very powerful. You, Mom, and Rob know that. There’s moments in time Rachel and I share that are etched in stone. Nothing nobody will do can ever erase them.
It’s painful to know those days are over and that, if I’m lucky, I’ll only be able to add a few more etchings in the rock that is our relationship.
This is the reality of life: It’s nothing but change. But at the same time there is nothing new under the sun. Just like your family resisted your matrimony, I resisted my brother’s and sister’s.
I resisted because I knew that was the end of that.
But one day sadness gives way to happiness. I became happy that Rachel found her soulmate, and the same goes for Rob.
Lately I’ve thought a lot about the nature of love. Do we love people because of what they do for us? Or do we love them without strings attached?
For instance, do I love my sister because it’s “warm in the light” when she gives me her attention? Or do I love her because she’s my sister and a fellow human being just trying to get through this crap storm like the rest of us?
I had a student write this post the other day that had a big effect on me. She writes:
“The truth is, most of us give with an expectation of something in return.
Like a transaction.
But the more love you give, the more love you get. Even if the love doesn’t come from the person you want it to come from.
Be love anyway.
You love for you, not anybody else. You give for you, not for anybody else.”
It reminds me of that Beatles quote we (and Chris Farley) love to quote:
“And in the end
The love you take
Is equal to the love you make”
Hearing the story of your family’s failure to accept your wedding makes me wonder how many of us truly do give love without expecting anything in return.
It’s not a lot—I’ll tell you that.
Where did this fear of losing my brother and sister come from?
I think it stems from feeling terrified of change instead of accepting it.
In the book Mindfulness In Plain English, Bhante Gunaratana writes,
“You see that your life is marked by disappointment and frustration, and you clearly see the source. These reactions arise out of your own inability to get what you want, your fear of losing what you’ve already gained, and your habit of never being satisfied with what you have.”
I was lucky enough to grow up with a sister who’s gaze could move mountains and a brother who’s loyalty could weather any storm. I remember Rob would always help me make my stupid movie ideas come to life on your old video camera. Even when he let out a big sigh, signaling he didn’t want to, a “Yes” soon followed.
I see him now with a wife that allows him to play video games with me once—sometimes two or three times—per week. These are our therapy sessions. She knows that, and takes responsibility for their child while we laugh for a few hours. He found someone who says “Yes” to his desires, too, and he deserves it.
I see Rachel with someone who probably wouldn’t bat an eye at a hurricane coming his way on the ocean. He’s that calm and relaxed, and no doubt it makes her feel grounded and safe. She deserves that, too.
My point is, these two people are so important to me that I feared losing them. I tried to hold on to something that was never “there” in the first place. Life is change. Of course my brother and sister were going to move out and find someone to spend their life with.
And continuing to grasp at that only brings suffering to everybody involved.
This world is so starved of love. I understand why we cling to any love we can find.
It’s “warm in the light,” and in a world so cold, we never want to see the sunset.
But I guess we can be our own sun, like my student wrote.
But to radiate love, you have to love yourself.
Most people don’t.
You said it yourself in your last letter. One day you walked across the parking lot and said ‘Billy, I would be happy to have a son like you.’
“When you have learned compassion for yourself, compassion for others is automatic.”
-Mindfulness in Plain English
Could it be that all of these problems stem from a lack of love for ourselves? Was I in fact upset that Rob and Rachel “left” me because I didn’t have enough self-love?
Maybe. I wonder what you think.
I love you, too.
Note to reader: This is a response to Letter #2, titled Did I Get Married Too Early At 21?
This is so beautiful to read . Family is everything but sometimes we have to accept that life is change . Well done Tom👍
Made me sad for what your and your Dad have gone through (you have gotten through it, I hope?).
And made me realize again how lucky I've been! At my older son's wedding Rehearsal Dinner , I gave the obligatory father-of-the-groom speech and I still remember, word-for-word, my advice: "You have been told marriage is a 50-50 proposition. You have been misinformed. It is 70-30, and each of you must be prepared to give the 70."
Turns out that is exactly what Maggie and I did for 54 years (she--like Rob's wife--never complained when I spent 1-2 nights a week playing basketball and another night playing music, and I often joked "the less she saw of me, the stronger our marriage became"), and what Dave and Nancy practice to this day.
I was so happy that her three brothers quicky became good friends, as did her parents; on the infrequent occasions when my bride and I disagreed, they usually took my side...
And I have no regrets about how my parents and brother treated me growing up, only abut how I sometimes treated them. Thanks for reminding me how lucky I've been.