Jill's Blog #11- What is Family (Part II)

I vividly remember back to nursing school in 1982, and it was 2:00 AM. The manual typewriter which was given to me from my parents as a high school graduation present was perched on my lap. Several empty bottles of white-out, surrounded by shreds of eraser, and a large cup of coffee from Daylight Donuts sat on the floor next to me. I had a 15 page research paper to complete by 8:00 AM and I was on page #9. My eyes felt like my “Tiny Tears” doll I had as a kid. Due to dryness and fatigue, each blink was mechanical. Earlier in the evening, when I made more than a few typo errors, I ripped the page out of the typewriter and started anew. As the night progressed, more and more eraser and white-out marks were evident on the typed pages. Fast forward to 2010, and a laptop computer sits on my lap. I have learned how to cut and paste…no more eraser and white-out, and I can navigate the internet. A whole new horizon in communication has opened up to me.

My horizons regarding relationships have also changed over the years. Growing up, I had a fairytale perception of family… a man and a woman,”fell in love at first sight;” got married; and raised only two children, (so as to not contribute to over population). Then I came home from the Peace Corps feeling like I was a “New Age” woman with a broadened perception and acceptance of what a family might be. After all, I had come to accept polygamy, (which was practiced in the Central African Republic); single parent families; and homosexual head of households as just some of a multitude of normal family configurations.

At times I’m a slow learner… it wasn’t until my late twenties that I figured out what I wanted in a long-term relationship. Up until then, they were superficial, conditional and with little potential for growth. Then Todd entered into my life. He was the opposite of previous boyfriends. He was one of the most earnest, down to earth and genuine people I’d ever met…indeed irresistible. Instead of feeling like I was sacrificing part of myself by being in a relationship, with Todd, I felt like the two of us together were more than each of us individually. But was I ready to embrace the fact that Todd had a toddler from his previous marriage? Was I ready to become part of his already established family?

After soul searching, I decided I was ready to get married and make a life together with Todd and his son Evan. Being a step-parent I imagine is like an arranged marriage. You learn to synchronize the dance of your relationship, with a lot of trial and errors in the process. I had a preconceived notion of how I would mold Evan. Being the very independent sort, Evan quickly made it clear that I wasn’t about to mold him...Through time we established a relationship and I have grown to love Evan as a son.

Then I gave birth to Bryce. By then it felt natural being a mother and I rather enjoyed the role. When we decided to have another child, things went awry. I had two miscarriages and a birth loss. We decided we couldn’t handle the possibility of another loss, so we pursued an open adoption…initially a foreign concept to us.

Claudia came into our lives when she was a teen and eight months pregnant. Eleven years later, she feels like family to me. Claudia made an incredibly mature and courageous decision to plan for an adoption since she felt she wasn’t ready at that point in her life to be a parent. Through the Lutheran Family Services we planned for an open adoption. Among other applicants, Claudia chose our family to raise Mallory. I’ll never forget the call from the hospital informing us that Claudia was in labor. Todd, Bryce and I piled into the car and raced to the hospital outside of Denver.

In one week-end, we became immersed in Claudia’s and her extended family’s lives. I’ve never before nor since have felt such a spectrum of emotions from immense joy with the birth of our daughter Mallory, to empathetic pain for Claudia and her family, as they relinquished Mallory to our love and care. I often look at the framed picture of six year old Bryce, proudly holding his newborn sister in the nursery, and I am so thankful for the symbolic adoption ceremony in the hospital. Claudia is now 29 and owns a business with her brother; Evan is 23, living with his girlfriend and is in graduate school; Bryce is 17 and Mallory is 11 and both are thriving. Life is good…

I’ll begin my bicycle journey this summer in Colorado with Mallory, my nephew Trevor, and Carol who I biked across the country with in 1979, and haven’t seen in many years. Bryce will join us a week later and Todd and friends for the last week of the trip. I recently received a call from Claudia, stating that she can drive our support wagon from Colorado through Missouri. Evan or his girlfriend Brooke, might be able to drive support wagon for the second leg of the trip, and my sister will drive the last leg of the trip. My goal of including family and friends to join me on this journey is becoming a reality. It feels deeply affirming to have support from family and friends, and I feel blessed to be part of a rich and diverse family with deep connections.

Jill's Blog #10- What is Family? (Part I)

When I was younger, my horizons were limited to a traditional family including a mother, father and their birth children; and extended family with grandparents, aunt & uncles, first cousins, and maybe a few scattered second cousins. Then, during my Peace Corps tour, my whole perspective on family was challenged. First of all, polygamy is common in the Central African Republic (CAR). I must admit that I was initially aghast. I couldn’t fathom intimacy with my husband, being shared with one or two other women. I gradually came to realize that most Central African wives don’t have the kind of intimate relationship with their husband that is common in the US. A wife’s role in CAR was to bear and raise her husband’s children.

Women in CAR lead a grueling life tending the fields; hauling wood and drinking water from distant places; and day in, and day out, labor intensive preparation of food for their passel of children. Polygamous wives often shared a “sisterhood” in which they supported each other and worked together to lessen the arduous family responsibilities. It was a common sight in the evening, to see women clustered outside of their huts after toiling in the hot sun all day. From my hut, I vicariously enjoyed hearing them chat and laugh amongst themselves as they coiffed each other’s hair.

I volunteered for the Peace Corps to “help people in need.” Little did I know how much the woman would be an inspiration to me. Despite living a life of constant duress between the constant work and struggle to have enough food to feed their family, and dealing with rampant illness without medicine to treat it, their smile and laughter defied what they endured on a daily basis. I saw that their joy for life was fueled through their shared connections and support for each other. The first six months I lived in CAR, I was extremely lonely, because I didn’t feel a common bond and connection with people there.

Kin in CAR “share, and share alike”. The notion of fending for oneself is a foreign concept. Very few Central Africans accumulate possessions or money because of the expectation to spread it throughout the family to those in need. Simply put, in CAR you assume responsibility to take care of kin, regardless of how remotely related they might be and resign yourself to the fact that you’ll never become rich.

While there, I hired a teen named “Lucy,” who lived next door to me to haul my water from a watering hole half a mile away. She also hand washed my clothes over rocks and pressed them with an iron heated with wood embers. (I had a kerosene burner to cook my meals while my neighbors cooked over a fire. I lived a life of luxury compared to most). When Lucy and I developed a kinship, her family adopted me into their family. I remember my pots and pans started appearing over at their hut. I was initially indignant, feeling that they were stealing from me and that I was being taken advantage of. Then I felt ashamed when I came to realize as one of their kin, it had switched in their eyes from “my” to “all of our” possessions. When I realized there was no ill intention, if I was missing something, I’d simply head over to their hut to collect it. Although they didn’t have many material goods to share with me, they often brought me food they prepared, despite their meager rations, and were immediately at my side if I was ill.

I came home from CAR with a less rigid outlook on family and kinship. What became important to me were not the family structure, but the connections and support between family members. So when I took my first job as a nurse practitioner I lived in an isolated mountain town in Colorado, and sorely missed the support and connections of my immediate family in the Northeast. Early in my job, I made a home visit to an elderly neighbor who was ill. What little did I know that she would become known to us as “Grandma Knobbe,” and I would make a daily visit, not as a nurse, but because I yearned to hear one more of her stories, or to seek out her sage advice. I’m certain we wouldn’t have moved back East if she was still alive.Yup,on this bike trip, I look forward to on rekindling connections with old friends and making new ones along the way.