Tante

This weekend was packed with family stuff (my niece’s graduation, day trip to visit Max’s brothers in Philadelphia) and it seemed to go smoothly on all counts. There’s a satisfaction to spending time with family and having it go easily and well and simply enjoying the time together. People who have been in therapy over family issues know what I’m talking about. A sort of contentment like from the Desiderata; you are going placidly among the noise and haste and you are a child of the universe no less than the trees and stars.

There have been too many times in the past when that didn’t seem possible. I had a lot of issues growing up because my brother seemed so perfect. Perfect grades, perfect behavior, perfect role model. He was like a third parent and he liked to discuss me with my parents as if I were their throuple child. At any rate, as my father says, he was a tough act to follow, and I did not even try for a long time, until I was in college on my own. Oddly enough, we did both end up becoming lawyers (criminal for him, labor for me) and he’s always been very encouraging of me from the very beginning of my career, but sometimes it’s hard to be encouraged.

I’ve done stupid things to harm the relationship, taken offense where none was intended, particularly having to do with inclusion of Sarah in family events. There was a period of several years where we basically had no contact because I felt Sarah had been insulted and he felt Emmy had been insulted and we were at an impasse. I’m glad that whole period is over.

Now that I obviously don’t have any living children of my own, I feel like I may slip into a kind of nice Tante role with my brother’s three kids. I can send baked goods to Andrew when he leaves for Syracuse U in the fall, although he’s allergic to nuts and follows a kind of protein diet to go along with his workout regimen so maybe I’d better hold off on that. Well, his roommates might enjoy them.