Seasons that bring family close seem to be far and few between but when they happen, treasure them. Even before the pandemic years, there have been falling out moments in my family. Arguments that didn’t get resolved. Political differences. Different beliefs. The list goes on. We used to be so close. I couldn’t have imagined years ago spending the holidays apart. More and more, it comes down to pockets of us getting together for this or that. It’s sad the whole group isn’t together anymore but I guess that’s just the way things are going to be.

I’m not going to pretend that we’ve all always gotten along on everything or there haven’t been disagreements but none that kept us from celebrating holidays together. We used to get together to work around my mom’s yard for a combined gift of her birthday and mother’s day gifts each year as well. That’s gone down the tube. It’s not that we won’t do anything for one another but it’s come down to a limit on that as well. However, this past Thanksgiving, for a brief moment, even without everyone there, I saw a spark of the old holiday warmth.

Growing up, I remember my dad’s family being distant, if barely there. My grandfather and he argued a lot from what I remember. Sometimes, we didn’t even make it out of the car before my dad would pack us all up to leave again. A lot of things, of course, were over my head as a child I would learn later. My grandfather kept a pack of interbred dogs in those days that were dangerous to deal with and my dad refused to allow us kids to be around them. His estranged brother was a bully who beat up my grandfather for his money. My grandmother had already passed on. My aunt and her husband did come to see us from time to time. Those were his only family members on his side. My mom’s family lived too far away for holidays. We visited when we could till the years took their toll on my dad’s health.

My dad passed away back in 1997. I think that’s when things began unraveling. Oh, we kept it together for mom’s sake, trying a bit harder for years. But the cracks cut in. Especially with me going through a nasty divorce and custody battle after an abusive marriage. I was blamed by a few for that blow. Still, I fumbled through and tried to keep appearances going as best I could. And then, my bipolar diagnosis slammed into everything and changed life even more. I fought for my life and to keep my kids from knowing the darkness I floundered within. Little did I know, they knew something was up with me. How we made it as a family, I couldn’t say, but we did, stronger than ever.

Never in my life do I remember a president tearing so many families and friendships apart. It’s still happening today. His influence was so strong that it broke the beliefs of many good people who’d made it through life before then. I have never seen anything so vile, so hate-filled as the message he brought with him and continues to spew today. We had other presidential races in the past we didn’t agree with but nothing compared to this. If you’re alive today, I’m sure it’s affected your own relationships in some way. People stopped talking to each other, it got so bad. Even today, I have to bite my tongue to pray not to get drawn into yet another argument about the man and his destructive ways.

I wish we could go back. Unfortunately, the more fear is pushed into the open by others and flamed into hate and intolerance, the harder that is to undo. We’re living in times I fear for my descendants in. They will have to live with the aftermath and it’s a pity and a disgrace. A glimmer of hope surfaced though as I said, during Thanksgiving, with the small group we had. We avoided politics for the most part, which was good. Instead, we concentrated on memories and stories of yesterday. Yes, seasons bring families close again. Not by the trappings of the holidays but by the remembrance of what we all mean to one another. Isn’t that the lesson from life we should take away from it all?

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