My family is Irish Catholic.
My family is grabbing some dogs and burgers on the way down to the lake. It’s bonfires and sarcasm and card games until 2 AM. It’s standing firm and tall and athletic and good genes and strong teeth and freckles and sunspots. My family is dark features and bone structure and piercing blue eyes and sunburns and cheekbones and medium-sized noses and nostrils that are slightly different sizes, which you’d only notice if you look up at them from below.
My family is cousins and second cousins and third cousins plus their cousins and the buddies they always hang out with. My family is blood or nothing. My family is here and the in-laws are there. My family is hanging out at the lake every summer Saturday and everyone’s welcome – just show up and bring some chips or potato salad and your own beer. We’ll be here all night. My family is lawn chairs on green grass watching the lake eat the sunset. My family is Tito‘s and Gatorade, or Yuengling, or Labatt Blue (Heavy), or shooters of Fireball, or a glass of white zin with an ice cube in it. My family is talking over each other and interrupting and telling the same great stories over and over. My family is laughing so loud you can hear it from outside of the house.
My family is a nasally Buffalo accent. My family is flat A’s, so Tops sounds like Taaps and Hockey sounds like Haahckey.
My family is escapism, church on Sundays, running 10 miles. My family is drinking or getting high and watching the sunset or reading voraciously, but always, mostly, alone. My family is worried, is lonely, is sitting squarely in an ocean of grief.
My family crest is Hanging in There or Getting Through It or Can’t Complain. My family is County Cork and Limerick and Dublin and the Isle of Man. My family immigrated right after the famine and hasn’t moved since. My family has a permanent and invisible knowledge of hunger.
My family is thyroid problems and autoimmune disorders, gout and arthritis and asthma and severe allergies, multiple sclerosis and cirrhosis and liver failure. My family is pull up an extra chair. My family is no thanks I just ate (but still checking the fridge for snacks.) My family is cheese and crackers. My family is a warm two-liter of Pepsi left on the counter for weeks. My family is relish trays with pickles and raw radishes. My family is leftover pizza and wings in the fridge, and a funfetti cake in a Pyrex.
My family is bug spray and Kan Jam and throwing the frisbee for the dog. My family is grilling and mosquito bites and a Bills T-shirt and coozies. My family is laying on the wet grass to look at the stars. My family is a minimum of 12 people at any given gathering, regardless of importance or holiday. My family puts fear and loss and grief in a closet, then closes the door. My family is protect the image before the children.
My family is Irish Catholic, but not so much Catholic anymore (besides the guilt and purity complex.) Really just the Irish. It’s just easier to say Irish Catholic. But twenty years ago, my cousin would have punched you if you used the Lord’s name in vain.
My family is a bunch of talkers. Voracious talkers. Excellent storytellers. My family will tell you about everything and anything. They will remember your last conversation and your parents names and your cousins and where they lived; my family will tell you four great stories, jam-packed with details, right in a row. Two of them will have been stories you’ve heard before, but you don’t even mind.
My family is “Well, that’s just how ___”.
That’s just how things are. That’s just how he is. That’s just how it goes.
My family is sometimes hoping for something better but mostly staying still and small and bitter so that God doesn’t notice and send any more pain our way. My family is Egyptian Rat Screw and Euchre and Asshole and Bid Pitch. My family is a screened-in porch with a couple of holes in it. My family is expecting the worst. My family is bracing for impact. My family is protective of each other at all costs and loyal to the end except for gossiping about you on the phone with each other.
My family is just worried about you and thinking about you! But not saying those things to you until you found out they’ve been talking about you privately with each other. My family is not talking for months on end, then sending a text that says “well, I’m sure you heard the news… “. My family is nine siblings and 23 first cousins and countless second cousins. My family is shots of Crown Royal on Christmas Eve and closing down the town dive bars and knowing every person in the hometown we all share. My family is gathering drift wood for the fire and swinging on tire swings and catching crayfish in the creek and rub some dirt in it.
My family is inside jokes and movie quotes and old SNL skits and dry humor. It’s remembering that funny thing your cousin said fourteen years ago when they visited the lake one summer and saying it every year when you see them again, for the rest of your lives. It’s laughing so hard your stomach hurts. It’s never letting the bit die. My family is say the funniest thing fastest and you win.
My family is knowing all the local bartenders by name or being the bartender yourself. My family is must be nice. My family is I’m praying for you. My family is calling you to chat and after 10 minutes saying “well, I’ll let you get going“ as if you have asked to end the conversation. My family is playing an old, out-of-tune piano on a special occasion. My family is warm cans of pop in the garage and hide and go seek in the dark and adults upstairs, kids in the basement. My family is having a stomachache or coming down with something.
My family was in the hospital for a stint because “they had a little bit of a heart issue”, to which another intercepts to say, “I wouldn’t call a heart attack a heart issue- I’d call that a heart problem.”
My family is stopping on the way to The Lake to grab some Buy’s popcorn covered in caramel and cashews to share with everyone. My family is love and love and more love and also heartbreak. My family is togetherness broken up by long stretches of separateness. My family is a quilt of individuals who are extremely talented in a highly-specialized niche. My family has made it. My family is reeling.