Friends and relations

Family is a strange thing. It forces a connection between people who would not otherwise meet. At least, this is the way that family is now. In the past I suppose this was different. I was listening to a piece on NPR this morning that said up to the 1960s, communities were composed largely of families and extended families. People were often very sedentary and stayed near their place of birth. This made the communities very close-knit. Everyone knew everyone. That was not really the point of the NPR piece, by the way, although the reporter also said that in a small community like that someone might know thousands of people – either personally or by association. Now, he says, we know far fewer. Hundreds, maybe dozens. I noted that when we moved here I was leaving behind many people who I would never see again. I hesitate to call them friends, although our recent close proximity made it easy to do so. As Bart Simpson once explained his relationship with Milhouse, “geographical convenience” As I said goodbye to them, I knew that I would likely never see them again. And that did not bother me at all. Not that I didn’t enjoy their company, but they are relatively replaceable. If any of these people are reading this, then I hope I do not offend you when I say this.

So here I am, a living example of what that NPR piece was talking about. I have lived in Orlando since 1996 when I moved out to start school. After twelve years in one city, I have developed lasting friendships (friendships that I still hope to maintain) with a total of four non-family members. Three of these people I have not actually seen in over a year because they have moved out of the city before me. And, although I plan to keep in touch with them, I do not hold much optimism of actually seeing them again.

That does not bother me very much. I don't feel particularly alone. For one thing, I have my wife with me, who I did not include in that list. Also, I have already made ties with people - acquaintances - as strong as any I had in Orlando. There is a possibility of a real friendship blooming here in Raleigh, but there is also the possibility of nothing new coming up. I'll be okay.

And besides, I always have my family. That's what is so bizarre about families. They are nearly unshakable. I imagine that an abusive or negligent family member could be forgotten with enough effort, but like it or not, we are still bound to them. And I don't mean that any of my family members were negligent or abusive. They are great. Even the ones I don't know.

Without meaning to, without knowing that these people lived in North Carolina, much less Raleigh, we moved about five miles away from some extended family that I had not seen in decades. They are great-uncle and great-aunt, and first cousins, once removed (I had to look that up on Wikipedia, so I hope it's correct) and we had not actually met in at least 15 years. It was a thoroughly pleasant visit and surprisingly comfortable. Which is what surprises me so much. Because they knew my father (they are his aunt, uncle and cousin) they had a reason to invite Bronwen and I - otherwise total strangers - out for dinner.

It turns out, then, that we have not moved here alone. We can be alone if we choose to be, but as long as there is family around, there is always someone to talk to.