One September midnight not long ago, my household suddenly expanded when fire struck my son’s house and he and his crew showed up on my doorstep. They will stay until they get situated. Here’s the true story of Extended Family Living…
“I got one!” my son Tom reels in his fishing line. We – four adults and four dogs—are all sitting peacefully on the dock, enjoying the bright sun and rippling waves of Devil Track Lake.
I should amend my statement— we are sitting as peacefully as one can with four dogs sharing one dock.
As Tom pulls in a small bass, Sammy (a Labrador retriever/pug) lunges excitedly at the fish’s flopping body while Tom struggles to pull the hook from its mouth.
Tom commands Sammy to move away but the dog is too intense and simply can’t obey. I try to wrestle the over-eager dog from the scene but at this moment, Magoo (the pug) decides to join in the fun by circling the fracas and yapping. I stumble and try not to fall into the lake.
Stefanie, my daughter-inlaw, leaps from the blanket on which she’s been sunning and offers help.
Goldie (the Labrador) is quite disinterested in the whole mess as she sprawls on the blanket she’s sharing with Stefanie and Brutus (the Chihuahua/pug.) When Tom releases the fish and it disappears under the lake’s surface, so does all the racket.
For a few minutes Extended Family Life is tranquil—until another fish strikes.
Some moments are noisy and chaotic. We have different sleeping and eating habits, but last night Stefanie fixed an evening meal of paprika-oregano seasoned roast chicken and garlic, bacon and blue cheese mashed potatoes with steamed garden-fresh wax beans. What can I say?
Later in the evening, Dick and Tom built a fire in the chiminea and we roasted marshmallows under a starry, warm September night. How nice is that?
The dog interactions sometimes get wild. Magoo frequently sneaks down the stairs to the basement living quarters and steals the visiting dogs’ food. Tiny Brutus bullies everyone but Goldie. Sammy (we refer to him as rammy Sammy) circles around the house in bouts of severe separation anxiety whenever Tom isn’t in his sight.
Yet somehow the whole living together experience feels good, feels right.
I recall stories of olden days when big extended families lived together, when different generations shared households. I recall the stories my mother and father told of growing up in extended families.
We “moderns” seem to think that having our own space, achieving our individual goals is important, what life is all about. But I’m rethinking that.
Do you know how wonderful it is to be with your own family?
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