Together We Make a Family . . .

 

Our family. We are a strange clan of characters making our way through life sharing DNA and toothpaste. Borrowing money and divvying up marshmallows . Inflicting pain and hugging to heal it all in the same moment. 

We love, laugh, fight and defend. At times we struggle to figure out just what the common thread is that binds us all together.

It isn't blood. When we married each of us brought two biological children to the table. His daughter and son, my two sons and a "daughter" who became family by default. Our five have grown, married and multiplied - this month we morphed into a family of 24! Five children, their spouses/partners, their children and their step-children. All part of this thing I lovingly call "Our Clan". 

I am now the Matriarch of this ragtag bunch. And I find myself using terms like "young people" and "good, clean fun" when referring to the activities of my grandchildren. When did I become my Great-grandmother?! 

But the thing is, when I look at my life, my greatest happiness-es are our family happiness-es. Each and every milestone takes on new meaning for me. Babies being born. Wee ones starting kindergarten. Older ones going to Prom, off to college and getting engaged. 

Our family - our Clan - is a circle of love and strength. With every birth, union and milestone the circle grows. Every joy shared adds to the love we all feel for each other. Every obstacle faced makes our growing circle stronger. 

I didn't choose this family - they are God's gift to me. The bond that links us is not entirely blood - it is the love and joy we bring to each other. 

Together we make a family!

30 Days of Thanksgiving Continued - November 23, 2012

 

I sincerely believe that history matters.  History defines, educates and inspires us. It lives on in our stories and traditions. As custodians of our past we must value it, nurture it and pass it on.  Stories define one's sense of the unique nature of each of our families, and of our own places in them. They provide us with inspiration, warnings, and cherished values. These stories never leave us; they reverberate through our lives, guiding our choices in work, friendship and love.

TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR memories – the history of our family shared through its stories.  

A Month of Thanksgiving - November 21, 2012

 

They were once little boys who looked to me for everything - love, protection and guidance. They loved me unconditionally and snuggled up to be hugged at a moment’s notice. They are now men and though they will always be at the center of my life, I am no longer at the center of theirs. Their own sons and daughters have taken over that role. I am so proud of them that it makes me proud of me. I hope they know that. 

TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR 

my two wonderful sons. 

A Month of Thanksgiving - November 13, 2012

My prescription for a more satisfying meal – SLOW DOWN! Turn off the TV, turn on some music – something low and sensual - then open a bottle of wine. Talk, laugh, listen, and connect. It’s a secret recipe the Europeans have down to an art,

and one that most of us make excuses not to have time for anymore. 

 

In a world of more and faster, we forget to indulge in one of life’s greatest pleasures: sharing food and wine, laughter and conversation with family and friends. 

 

TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR wine because it encourages a return to a slower pace. Cheers!

 

 

A Month of Thanksgiving - November 3, 2012

TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR: Families are eternally messy. Sometimes the best we can do is to remind each other that we're related for better or for worse - and try to keep the maiming and killing to a minimum. You can't give up on family, no matter how tempting they make it. 

Because at the end of each day it doesn't matter how poor you are if you have family you can turn to you are rich. Be thankful.

Drummond in the Spring

Family traditions counter alienation and confusion. They help us define who we are; they provide something steady, reliable and safe in a confusing world.

The following poem was written by my granddaughter, Madison Rain Baker, in response to an English class assignment this spring. My heart sang when I read it for the first time. Who knew our family traditions - centered around time spent on Drummond - would have such an impact? Strong enough that a young, gregarious teenager would feel compelled to capture those feelings in prose? 


Drummond in Spring

Drummond Island is a friendly place.

Filled with different people

and different race.

Trees line the road like a trophy case.

Every day you meet a new face.

  
Surrounded by a big blue lake,

Sometimes I sit on the shore when there's too much to take.

We pull into the cabin and see the familiar image of the tan cabin with a green door.

Last time I left here I didn't want to go and I wanted more.

 
 
After we unpack we head down to the boat,

The red chipped paint sets a float.

We all sit down prepared for the cold sting

As our ears begin to ring. 

                        

This is Drummond Island in the spring

When the birds come out ready to sing.

by Madison Rain Baker

Song for the Island . . .

Out 'round the Island on warm afternoons

Old men go fishing with black line and spoons

And if they catch nothin' they never complain

I wish I were with them again.

As boys in their boats call to girls on the shore

Teasin' the ones that they dearly adore

And into the evening the courting begins

I wish I were with them again.

CHORUS:

Can you imagine a piece of the universe

More fit for queens or for kings?

I'll give you ten of your cities

For Drummond Island and the pleasure it brings.

Out on the Island on soft summer nights

Bonfires blaze to the children's delight

They dance round the flames singin' songs with their friends

I wish I were with them again - - -

And over the ashes the stories are told

Of witches and werewolves and old Island gold

Stars over Whitney Bay sparkle and spin

I wish I were with them again.

CHORUS

Out on the Island the people are kind

They treat you like fam'ly and help you unwind

And if you come broken they'll see that you mend

I wish I were with them again - - -

Now I'll conclude with a wish you go well

Sweet be your dreams and your happiness swell

I'll leave you here for my journey begins

I'm going to be with them again.

I'm going to be with them again,

.

Adapted by Candis Collick from "Song for the Mira," by Allister MacGillivray

Taking Time . . .

There is time – and that is often the hardest thing for me to acknowledge.

There is time today.

When I think I just have to vacuum up those dust elephants under the bed – there is time today instead to call and listen to the old stories my father has to tell one more time. To hear him recite the details of the history and traditions of our family and to come to understand where I fit on the family tree.

There is time today.

When I rush home done in after a doctor’s appointment – there is time instead to swing by the florist’s and pick the freshest, brightest bouquet of flowers for the dinner table.

There is time today.

And when I am so exhausted at the end of the day I want to just let Chloe’ out the back door to romp on her own – there is time instead to walk the short distance from our home to Angel Field where she can run full tilt up and down the hills “herding” robins. There is time for me to cheer her on and to catch her enthusiasm. To saunter across the lacrosse field, to sit on the bleachers and read a good book while the sun sets and to watch while she sniffs out and marks every corner.

There is time today.

When I think it would be faster to just do it myself, there is still enough time in the day to let my grandchildren enjoy working with me on the task at hand so they can feel useful and so I can remember just how vital they are and how much I have to learn from them.

There is time today.

And there is time to get to know those whose lives have touched mine and left such a print of friendship that I will never be the same. Those who may not be aware that just meeting them shaped my life much more than they will ever know.

Glenn Lahti’s name is on that list of friends I am indebted to. One of those I prefer not to forget because in some way he had a part in shaping things I do. His comments on the ditties I wrote for the Drummond Island Digest not only forced me to re-think what I had written, but also caused me to reflect on my perspective concerning the issue at hand. He was a great one for asking “Why Candis?” Glenn loved stirring the pot! More importantly he knew about taking time.

Unfortunately, I am often too worried about returning on time, finishing on time, running out of time that I forget it is time to take time.

Time to walk slower – to match my gait to the leisurely pace of those whose path crosses mine. To enjoy the sunlight, the sound of the breeze rustling through the trees, the sight of my puppy running head long into the next new adventure and the laughter of my grandchildren as they discover something for the very first time.

When it appears there is no more time, that I have only a few days and then only a few hours, and finally only a few minutes – I need to remember there is still time.

There is always enough time if I remember that the time is now.

“Half our life is spent trying to find something to do with the time we have rushed through life trying to save.”  - Will Rogers