Roots Grow Deep Under a Strong Family Tree

I had witnessed this scenario before. 

My wife, Lori, and her younger sister, Lisa, crying together. 

They aren’t crybabies. Just owners of big, soft hearts. It runs in their family.

Sometimes they were tears of joy. For our children – from their birth to graduations, from their weddings to grandchildren. Some were tears of sorrow - at their parents’ and other loved ones’ funerals. They were even interviewed by the local newspaper, while crying together, when dropping off our oldest sons for their first day of school. 

When we said goodbye before our move to Wisconsin, there were tears in Lisa’s kitchen. These two sisters lived most of their adult lives within walking distance of one another, not to mention their childhood when they shared the same room. They were like a DNA quilted security blanket for each other, always there when needed. But we were leaving to be closer to our kids. The three-minute drive would now be over two hours. It was the right decision for us, but not an easy one.

We spent every holiday together. Christmas, Easter, Mother’s and Father’s Day, and Thanksgiving – the location often rotated but it was at one of our homes. Add in birthdays, random parties, and lots of quick stop-ins, and we saw each other all the time. 

There were good times and tough times, health issues, and life in general, all made easier knowing there was support close by.

For decades, we had their parents, from Aurora, a brother and sister-in-law in Big Rock, and our two families in Oswego, all short distances from one another. Two other brothers and their families lived in Wisconsin and Nevada. As per many families, their Mom and Dad’s place was home base, being the house where they all grew up. Initially, most gatherings were spent there. The adults hung out and talked while the kids played in the basement or in the backyard. There was a certain rightness about this that felt like it was the way it should be.

After long, happy lives, their parents passed away. They were deeply loved, and their deaths shook the family to its core. It was terribly sad to envision life without them, but they left much behind, perhaps the most important being a tight-knit family. 

Shortly after, another sibling moved to Wisconsin. Home base became Oswego, where we were both residents for over thirty years. Both our families had ties to the community. Whether via church, business, youth and high school sports, bands, clubs, etc., we had many friends spanning the eras of all six of our kids.

Oswego was home and I never thought we would leave. Until we left. It was exciting and unsettling, simultaneously. Our roots felt like they were being tugged upon.

But we still had Lisa and husband Todd there. We sometimes met halfway for lunch and often stayed at Hotel Bell, as we called it, to visit them and see them and old friends. Oswego changed a bit, but the lone house on Jay Street remained with them. In an odd way, it was comforting to Lori and I knowing they were still there. It felt like we could always go back home, even if it was in their home.

Until they decided to leave too.

Enter Lori and Lisa crying together, again. This time in Florida. We just finished a spectacular vacation with twenty-four family members. We all stayed in the same hotel, chatting, and catching up while the grandkids played. It had heart-warming familiarity. We went to Disneyworld, EPCOT, and partied for four days. It was great. We have done this countless times in Minocqua, Wisconsin, too, for 35 years.

But this time, the goodbye was different.

It was not a garden variety, see you later. It was an end to a way of life kind of goodbye.

Within a month or so, Lisa and Todd will be moving to Tennessee to be near their children and grandchildren. We get that. It is the right decision for them, but not an easy one.

Our last root, the one that connected us all to the same place, is being dug up. The unsettling feeling is back. No matter how big and strong, a tree cannot survive without its roots.

We are all getting older. Travel is not as easy as it once was. Will we now just fade away in our own parts of the country? North, south, and west, now separated by long drives and airplanes. No visit will be convenient or inexpensive any longer. It is a troubling thought.

But it’s only a thought. 

No way do we let this happen. 

That’s because those roots didn’t just tie us to a geographic place. Frankly, that would make them quite shallow. These roots reached a place deep inside our hearts, creating a family bond that has gotten stronger with time and can never be broken. Distance can’t change this. Nor can time apart. 

Instead, we will savor the times we share even more. They will become fewer, thus becoming far more important and enjoyable each visit. But the effort will be there to ensure this happens. I am certain of it.

So, maybe all this time Lori and Lisa were never really crying – they were simply watering the invisible but real roots that grew under this wonderful family tree. 

Whatever they were doing, it worked.