Chasms

It comes the turn of every generation when we step irrevocably from the lingering wilderness of childhood into the wilderness of grown-up-ness. It happens when we lose the significant people in the generation before our own.

One of my six brothers called to chat yesterday. He's been busy investigating the genealogy of my mother's side of the family, an interest that we share.

Somewhere near the close of our conversation, we were talking about how Mom was our "gossip central," a joke we had among ourselves and a term that even Mom would use to describe herself once in a while. We all knew that if you had news you wanted all your siblings to know, all you had to do was call Mom and the story would be spread. Sometimes the details weren't quite right but the gist of the message got through.

Now with Mom gone, that core communication has disappeared with her. "Who's going to do that now?" my brother asked.

My answer was "All eight of us have to take the responsibility."

But I know in my heart of hearts that that won't happen. I talk regularly with my sister and youngest brother by email and phone. The brother who called yesterday seems in need of sibling contact and we're both enjoying our conversations. I think we'll both make an effort to continue that.

But for the rest of us, I'm not sure. And I feel the edges of the chasm that Mom—and her love and care—has left behind. What shape will my family take in the months and years to come?