Not that long ago it was told to me that my kids and I were a tight-knit crew, not closed off, just extremely close. I always considered the 5 of us to be close, just not in the manner with what was described. I have used that feedback to sit-back and reflect on who we are. We are close, we are a unit; one forged of love and trust and adventure. We are by no means all friends, my kids are certainly friends with each other, as well as siblings, but I am clearly the parent, at best the leader of the group, at worst the outsider. From this outside perspective I was told it can be intimidating to enter our circle, not because we're not welcoming, but because we are such a unit. Finding a place in the circle when we inherently know our strengths and weaknesses would be a challenge for someone, and I had never considered it; never considered how our unit might appear to others and how that has impacted our social life.
We are the family that hosts bonfires and everyone is welcome. Come over, bring a chair, enjoy the fire and s'mores and simply hang out. We enjoy hosting people, and prior to our crazy lives with 4 teenagers we used to have more frequent gatherings. From college parties with home-cooked food to young adult parties with an extensive menu, the majority of my life I have been a hostess. This all carried over into my adult life with parties and gatherings, simply bringing people together to share food and laughter and make memories.
I want my children to remember the gatherings, the fun, and think of these times when life seems simply too much. I want them to remember that sense of community, and yet as I reflect on the past decade I struggle to see that community. I see us hosting again and again, bringing over friends and neighbors, even complete strangers to enjoy time with us. They have been beautiful moments for us, but ones that are rarely, if ever, reciprocated. I have observed friends and neighbors hosting gatherings of their own, mixes of friends and family, and rarely has an invitation been extended. I wonder now if it's because of our unit. A few years ago I remember driving by a friend's home that was clearly having a party and my children commenting on the party and then asking why we weren't invited. I made some answer, but I remember feeling crushed that my children were starting to notice the differences. Now I look and wonder if it's because we are such a unit, that what I see as a happy, loving family, appears to the outside as closed off, unreachable. I can certainly hope not, but as we close out another holiday and I see the photos of the picnics and gatherings and parties, all I can see is that another has passed without an invitation.
Somewhere along this path when I truly began noticing that we were continuously on our own for holidays I began planning things for us to do together. We have a host of happy memories of camping, hiking, bonfires, all clearly feeding into our closeness. I have broached the subject of our apparent lack of micro-community tentatively with a few people and it often comes back to me as, "well you're usually busy" or "you're always welcome to join us". Busy I understand- we are a busy family, and yes I often plan things these weekends as I do not want to waste time waiting on an invitation that may never arrive. The phrase "you're always welcome to join us" is not an invitation, at least not for one with anxiety like mine, and one who has a history of being invited places, then treated like I was not welcome. I would prefer to avoid repeating those experiences, and would like to prevent my children from experiencing them. I never quite know what to say in response to these statements, so I opt for brief explanations about our schedule or my need for a clear invitation so as not to intrude. All which creates a cycle of us being busy and and bonding and separating ourselves from this community further.
As most parents and caregivers do, I try to do my best by my children, and yet in these moments when I see these micro-communities around us I feel like I have failed them. That in my desire to create memories with them and shield them I have separated them from these microcosms and more. Failed in that they do not have this surrounding community that so many others have. It is more challenging when you do not have local family, and yet having grown up without family nearby I know it can be done. I have fond memories of growing up with my parents and attending parties, arriving with a salad or cookies or something and being welcomed; I feel sad that my children have nearly none of these moments and memories. All I can do is hope that the memories they do have are enough.
