Big People, Beer, Babies and Blankets

My mom's side of the family, the O'Briens, got together in St. Louis this weekend (her hometown) and I drove in from Chicago, and my parents, Lauren and George drove in from Atlanta. It was a great time, and I learned a few things along the way.

We reconvened on Friday evening at my Aunt Mickey's house, which she shares with her charming and sweet husband Jerry, and laughed at dinner as we collectively tried to solve the world's problems - first the mortgage crisis, then immigration issues, then relationship battles and then corporate frustrations. We were not always in agreement, yet at the end of the night, we all knew where we stood. Together.

Saturday afternoon we toured The Gateway Arch, which is quite an engineering marvel, and all stifled our own bouts of claustrophobia as we boarded the tiny 5-person capsules to elevate to the top of the 630-foot monument where we could see far and wide, east and west. In the trek up into the sky, we had fun trying to squeeze all five of us into the car, equaling almost 30-feet of legs into one tiny little space. We are big people. Being inside the monument brought back memories of that very same visit from about 25 years ago, when we cousins were all little kids leaning on the carpeted observation platforms to look down into the city below. When we stood at the base and took photos along the stainless steel, reflecting in the metal and in each other's faces.

That evening, we gathered at my cousin Carrie's lovely house to celebrate and surprise my Aunt Maureen's 60th birthday. At one point in the evening, while we were all chugging Anheuser-Busch products just to stay cool, I stopped pounding the city's staple beer long enough to realize that eight of my mom's nine siblings were there - and one look around the room confirmed it. They all look so much alike, like carbon copies of the others, really, that it fascinates me. Genetics were good to the O'Briens, and it is fun to see them all in the room together.

Even their voices are the same - except Uncle Terry's this weekend as he was suffering from laryngitis - and more than once I mistook one of my aunts for my own mother. As for the noise? Wow. The din rose to nearly deadly decibels at times, causing many of us to wince at least once. Terry, I think you're free from blame this time.

My favorite thing about these gatherings is to sit with a cousin that I may not see very often and really connect - find out what's been going on since Christmas, or the last wedding, and how life is treating them. It is always interesting to acknowledge how much alike we all are, too, in the second generation - having been raised by parents with the same values and ethics and moral compass - so we all seem to respond to life's challenges and celebrations in the same way. And, we all like a good party. Michelle - I have no doubt we'll figure it all out and look back on this time and laugh - let's just enjoy it now while we can. The rest of them are probably envious of what we have!

All in all it was a great visit, capped off by a girly bridal shower for my cousin Maureen in San Francisco at my sweet Aunt Sharon's house. It was our first "virtual" shower as we had her on the phone (Skype was being finicky) and showed the gifts to one another before wrapping them, all to go into a large postal box headed west. That will be one fun box to receive! Hopefully it arrives before the baby girl does. I spent much of the day marveling and my cousins' beautiful children - but when naptime was long overdue, was not too sorry to give them back to their mothers.

Yesterday's drive back to Chicago was fairly uneventful, albeit long and boring. After leaving St. Louis, and the hilly green lush landscapes near the Missouri River, I was treated to 4 and a half hours of flat, brown fields of farmland, with vegetables and grains that this city girl is hard pressed to identify. Either way, when I passed Midway airport and could finally make out the skyline in the distance, I felt a sigh of relief.

I'd had a lot of time to think while trekking north through my state. It felt good to walk into my apartment and drop the bags at the door. While I love leaving town every now and then for a fun weekend filled with family, witnessing great monuments, surprise celebrations, technologically savvy parties and shocking road-trip moments, I'm always thankful to be home. I already missed my family, and looked forward to the next time we'll all be together, which thankfully is in September for Lauren and George's wedding.

I can't help but compare family to a blanket, though. As I had plenty of time to think in the car on the way back, I realized that family, no matter the size, is as reliable and comfortable as a blanket you've had for years. Not the nubby one that your mom cut up into smaller and smaller pieces to wean you off of it, or the scratchy one at a cheap hotel, but the one that is lovingly draped across the arm of your favorite couch.

Forgive me as I explore this metaphor.

With family, as with every good blanket, there are areas that are frayed and showing wear and tear, and there are holes where the knots aren't as tight as they used to be, and there are stains that show the history of its use, but one thing holds true.

Just as with a blanket, where it pulls tighter and the threads stay woven close together, family has a way of pulling together when it is important to do so. I witnessed this phenomenon in several instances this weekend, some happy and some sad, and feel reassured that when in doubt, family pulls together and comforts us when we need it.

I realize, too, that not everyone feels that way, and even I doubt it sometimes, but I do believe that our family does it well. We can all recognize that we're threaded together in different patterns, taking various paths and making unique choices, but at the end of it all, we're all interwoven, made from similar fabric. Sometimes it just feels good to shrug that blanket onto your shoulders and bask in its warmth, and sometimes you don't need one, and are better off on your own.

But, we all would be lost without the others - no one has ever warmed themselves in winter with just a scrap of fabric or a few loose threads - we are better together for certain. Our family is built on, proud of, and strengthened by the traditions that are handed down through the generations, and we will ride out the areas of life that are wearing us thin. We'll show off the beauty of our clan and celebrate the milestones as one cohesive unit. We truly are a beautiful blanket to behold.

And, quite frankly, we all look good laying on the couch.