Family...

I haven’t been back to Paris in 13 years or so, and haven’t seen my dad’s older brother for approximately 10.  The last time I saw him, he was visiting my parents in Los Angeles, and I believe I saw him for a day of his two-week trip. 

One of the reasons I had no interest in coming to visit Paris was because I didn’t like being told what to do (well, I still don’t, but…). That sounds weird, but every time I came to Paris, I wouldn’t get the chance to relax and walk around the city on my own (given I was 16 or 17 the last time I was here).  We had to have every meal at my uncle’s house; we had to stay where he said; we had to wake up when he said; we had to sightsee where he said; etc. Looking back now, it really wasn’t so bad. I don’t know what I really wanted or expected.  And…it’s a pretty lame reason not to ever come back and visit my entire dad’s side of the family, including all my cousins who are my age.  When the opportunity arose this time, as much as I wanted to spend time with my parents in Paris (the only way I had a chance in hell to be comfortable here), I really wanted to see my cousins and uncles, especially my dad’s oldest brother. My dad is very close to him, and literally worships the ground he walks on. It’s more than I have ever seen. I mean, I love my brother…more than anything on earth. But, I also know my brother is human and makes mistakes. And I love him for all his flaws…I always will. However, you cannot say anything without my dad jumping to my uncle’s defense. Tonight, I told my dad that he   looking.” He said this in the most respectful way, and with such honor. It was absolutely adorable. Now, as good-looking as either of them could ever be, my dad’s oldest brother is in his mid-70s.  Adorable starts to change meaning.

I actually forgot how much I wanted to see my uncle until the moment I saw him and realized how much he aged. So much. He was still tall, but hunched over. Still chiseled, but with many more wrinkles. Still strong, but much weaker. Still authoritative, but with much less intensity than before. Still strict, but with more love.  It brought tears to my eyes. The minute I saw made me so happy to be here, in Paris, with him. It made all my discomfort and fears go away. I was never as close to him as one of my dad’s younger brothers. But it made me want to get to know him so badly. It made me want to appreciate every time he got under my skin, and every time I wanted to walk away because I felt controlled. I felt appreciative that I had this man in my life who could make me feel…anything. Whatever it was. I am happy to have him be him. Controlling, bull-headed, and all.

At dinner tonight, my dad’s younger brother brought up how he would have done so many things differently if he could start over. He even said that he took all the blame for his mistakes and any unhappiness he may have in life. My dad’s older brother immediately became “dad” and lectured him on how he had a great life, had all the opportunities in the world, and that he should stop complaining.  It hadn’t even been a complaint; more, a confession of sorts amongst the closest to him.  I could see my dad’s younger brother get a little hurt that he wasn’t being heard – a 60-year old grown man.  I could see him decide to stop talking and just take what was being said. After so many years, why try to change anyone? What’s the point? Is it even our place?

It’s times like these that I remember how important family is.  Friends and lovers come and go, but family is there…even when you haven’t kept in touch, talked, or seen each other in years. There is something that connects you forever…even when you don’t think of them. 

Today, I feel beyond blessed and grateful.