I woke up early and putzed around online a bit. Soon enough others were up. We talked about taking the boat out again, but there wasn't time. My Aunt made a great farmers breakfast as we talked for a little while longer - sharing stories of past and future adventures. But we had to head out again.
We left mid-morning for another beautiful ride through rural Michigan. Roads were nearly empty and temperatures were cool, if a bit humid.
We worked our way toward where SO grew up, stopping briefly to see her Mom at her work. We talked for a short time heading out to see SO's Grandma. But SO's Grandma was at the hair dresser's so we headed back out toward the Thumb of Michigan.
On one of the rural roads near the center of the Thumb, I saw what I thought was a turkey vulture on the road eating carrion. Once we got closer though, what I saw was a bald eagle taking flight off of the road. The image of the "majestic" bald eagle scavenging a dead possum is one to remember - as well as a metaphor to ponder.
My family has had a few turbulent issues over the last year, so we all decided to get together at a rental house near Lexington, Michigan for a few days.
So I'm going from a visit with an Aunt and Uncle, to SO's Mom, to my family - an unnatural progression if there ever was one.
I very often struggle with the idea that my aunts and uncles are the siblings of my parents. That all those little things that make family the ultimate insider's club also happened to them while they were growing up a generation before I was ever around. That all of life's monumental unfairnesses of living within life's single-digit years happened within that other insider club - so near, yet so far.
It is interesting to look back on the progression from childhood through adolescence and into adulthood and now middle age. If life wasn't fair at 7, there is far more ugly brutality at 47. Yet those things that make the the insider's club persist. "Blood is thicker than water" is an old cliche. It is a worn-out cliche with life or death consequences. Friends will inevitably become acquaintances; acquaintances will become near-strangers who get the occasional Christmas card. But sibling is a label that will always stick.
I look at my nieces and nephews and wonder how their world looks relative to what mine did - how their insider club is a place I can never go, and wouldn't want to.
I look at my siblings and know that there are undeniable DNA-based bonds. My recent exploration of 23andme has shown I have clear DNA bonds to far more people than I'm comfortable with; to far more people than I'll ever know. The DNA isn't really what matters though. What matters is fighting over a stupid plastic cowboy boot. What matters is inventing new card games while watching silly Don Knotts' movies on a summer Saturday afternoon. What matters is building sand forts in huge empty fields and playing with fireworks. What matters are those horrible car trips across the country. What matters is wondering what the statute of limitations is for arson. There is no doubt that despite the fact that what we have in common now seems to decrease every year, siblings will always be the ultimate insider's club.
The next few days could be interesting. The group of us haven't spent the night in the same place since possibly before I could even drive. It is hoped by all that there will be no bloodshed - or maybe just a little bloodshed...
We arrived at the rental house around "check-in" time. The final roads to get there were sand and gravel. These were slightly better than the roads near my Aunt and Uncles, but only slightly. I had gotten a few texts from siblings on the way. The house itself was really nice. It was spacious and had tons of bedrooms. It had a huge kitchen.
Several sitting areas.
I've always wanted a house with a loft.
And the upstairs had space for the kids (and maybe my sister).
Mom and siblings filtered in. Kids started to play games or BS. At some point it started to torrentially rain; I was glad we were off the bike for the day as the sand and gravel roads turned to mud.
We talked for a while before heading out for an overwhelming dinner. I'm not sure who was more entertained by my youngest nephew's Playdough - my nephew or the adults and teens.
The restaurant was good, but the poor waitress was running her fool head off. It was to be expected as a sign on the door said that when times are busy, wait times could be long. It all worked out in the end.
The night ended with games, noise and shenanigans back at the house before turning in for the night.
We talked for a while before heading out for an overwhelming dinner. I'm not sure who was more entertained by my youngest nephew's Playdough - my nephew or the adults and teens.
The restaurant was good, but the poor waitress was running her fool head off. It was to be expected as a sign on the door said that when times are busy, wait times could be long. It all worked out in the end.
The night ended with games, noise and shenanigans back at the house before turning in for the night.
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