A Gathering

On September 1st my parents celebrated their 68th wedding anniversary. This, in and of itself, is a remarkable feat. Add to that the fact that all five of their children, all eight grandchildren, and both great-grandchildren are alive and healthy. Everyone who is old enough to work is employed. Two of us are retired and another one of us will be soon. No one is in jail or suffering from an addiction. We speak to one another regularly. On top of all that, I think we're all pretty cute and I know we're all funny.
Saturday we all gathered at my youngest brother's home to celebrate Mom and Dad and each other. My sister-in-law can entertain our mob at the drop of a hat. Their house is the most centrally located and has the biggest kitchen. We're a "kitchen" family. I didn't inherit the gene that allows me to work in a kitchen with people surrounding me so I'm in awe of anyone who can prepare a meal for our large group and participate in the conversation while stepping around guests who are underfoot and munching on chips and salsa (home-made). This particular sister-in-law, Susie, has been part of our family since she started dating my brother, Mike, when she was 14 or 15 years old and opens her home to us anytime we feel the need to gather.
My family doesn't say a blessing over these feasts but one or two of us will speak from the heart about what we mean to one another. It's usually Buddy because he's oldest and he's not overly sentimental. We can reflect on our good fortune and give thanks for our bounty without crying.
This year I appointed myself as speaker. Because of my tendency to get nervous and ramble I wrote down what I wanted to tell my family and read it aloud as we stood, shoulder to shoulder, in Susie's kitchen. I have included this open letter to my parents and brothers and sister in this post.

Being retired, I have lots of time to think and what I think about most is us, this family. We’re unique is many ways but we have three distinctions that stand out to me.
1. We are all alive and functioning, some better than others, but without assistance.
2. We mostly like each other.
3. We are in contact with one another on a fairly regular basis.
Watch the news, read the papers, talk to friends. We are the exception to the rule if we believe these reports. It doesn’t take a genius to see how blessed we are.
Even when we aggravate one another (that’s our right as siblings), we have a bottom line. We love one anther. It’s unconditional. We’re stuck together with gorilla glue and there’s no escape. None of you could commit an act so heinous that I would quit loving you. I asked Mom, one time, if she’d love me if I killed somebody. Her answer was an emphatic, “Of course I would, but I’d be mad as hell you’d done something that stupid!” That’s unconditional in a nutshell.
I try not to take this gift for granted. All of you have been there for me. I’ve never faced adversity without backup. We’re a well rehearsed ensemble troupe. We all have roles to play in our “life drama” and all of us step up to perform our parts without doubt or hesitation. In 1984, after the removal of my first tumor, Mom and Dad and Neanne, and I were getting into the elevator at the Medical Tower building. We were on our way to Dr. Kyser’s office to hear what my treatment would be. Just as we started to step in, Buddy came through the door and announced, “Circle the wagons! I see Indians!” Can it be any plainer than that? I have thousands of examples and anecdotes that illustrate this reaction to a threat of danger. Our solidarity as a family is our legacy and that legacy is a gift from Mom and Dad. Our unity is no accident. They modeled a lifestyle that didn’t allow anger or negativity to fester. That’s not to say that we have lived a life of “goodness and light” 100% of the time. No one can do that, it’s unrealistic. Instead, when strife reared its ugly head, we dealt with it. No one can hash, rehash, and analyze a topic like a Simmons kid. Mom and Dad allowed for individual differences in each of us, even when we bewildered them with some of our decisions. And somehow, they were able to meld us into a formidable and unshakable union. Good, bad, or indifferent, our circle remains unbroken.