A Stranger's Wake
Today I went to Ray's great Uncle's wake. I had only met him once, and I had to be reminded because, frankly, I don't remember half the people I met years ago at Ray's family reunion. After 86 years of life, Charles Washington Wilson made his way to the beyond as a stranger to me.
Why then did his wake provoke such profound feelings in me?
There was something incomprehensible that happened during the short service. It effected me deeply. Not because I was sad that he died exactly, but... something else. Something that struck me on an almost primal level. The only way I can think to describe it doesn't seem quite right: my love for Ray deepened just knowing that he is made from the same stock as this man.
I have never put an emphasis on family - blood family, that is. My parents always avoid the family, and the extended portions I'd like to see have faded into the distance. I'd like to reach out... I just don't know how. I've always put my efforts into my psudo-family: friends that have seen me through thick and thin. Support isn't something I've seen a whole lot of amongst the blood relations, and as would make sense, I've never cared much about the ones my SO's have had or didn't have. It was never important to me. So imagine my surprise when hearing about a stranger felt like it meant the world - Wilson's are cut from a different sort of cloth.
Stories of love letters written during a war and quirks like asking for black coffee in his last days of life - from the big down to the small, helping Ray's grandparents secretly elope... it was the story of a dyed in the wool romantic with one hell of a personality. I didn't know this man, but I know his brother, Grandpa Melvin, and Ray's dad, and Ray, and various relations connected to them all. And I saw something I never have in my family, nothing that my parents participated in. I saw, in each and every Wilson I knew in that room, the characteristics that this man had, living on for generations. It will probably continue on for the rest of eternity - I wouldn't doubt if the very first Wilson connected to these men and women was the one who originally passed those traits along.
There was a connection that was mind-blowing. And it made me want it so bad it hurts.
I've always felt awkward around family - it was a time to dread. It's just another place filled with expectations and a hundred things that are part of my very essence that I'm warned not to mention. I've never felt a sense of belonging anywhere. But those people in that room loved in ways I couldn't understand and wanted to get together to connect and support each other.
I...
What can I do to have that?
The ties Ray's family have make me want to go out of my way to get Ray and I to make an effort. My family is scattered and I wouldn't know where to start. And their connections don't feel as deep as the Wilson bond.
I've never seen or felt anything like it, sitting there at a stranger's wake, feeling like maybe I could be a part of that, and at the same time, feeling so god damned disconnected and alone.
Charles Washington Wilson was married for 67 years before he departed. 67 years. I stand here before you in awe, longing for even a little of what that family has.
Do you think... if I reach hard enough... I might be able to touch it?
Just a little?
Why then did his wake provoke such profound feelings in me?
There was something incomprehensible that happened during the short service. It effected me deeply. Not because I was sad that he died exactly, but... something else. Something that struck me on an almost primal level. The only way I can think to describe it doesn't seem quite right: my love for Ray deepened just knowing that he is made from the same stock as this man.
I have never put an emphasis on family - blood family, that is. My parents always avoid the family, and the extended portions I'd like to see have faded into the distance. I'd like to reach out... I just don't know how. I've always put my efforts into my psudo-family: friends that have seen me through thick and thin. Support isn't something I've seen a whole lot of amongst the blood relations, and as would make sense, I've never cared much about the ones my SO's have had or didn't have. It was never important to me. So imagine my surprise when hearing about a stranger felt like it meant the world - Wilson's are cut from a different sort of cloth.
Stories of love letters written during a war and quirks like asking for black coffee in his last days of life - from the big down to the small, helping Ray's grandparents secretly elope... it was the story of a dyed in the wool romantic with one hell of a personality. I didn't know this man, but I know his brother, Grandpa Melvin, and Ray's dad, and Ray, and various relations connected to them all. And I saw something I never have in my family, nothing that my parents participated in. I saw, in each and every Wilson I knew in that room, the characteristics that this man had, living on for generations. It will probably continue on for the rest of eternity - I wouldn't doubt if the very first Wilson connected to these men and women was the one who originally passed those traits along.
There was a connection that was mind-blowing. And it made me want it so bad it hurts.
I've always felt awkward around family - it was a time to dread. It's just another place filled with expectations and a hundred things that are part of my very essence that I'm warned not to mention. I've never felt a sense of belonging anywhere. But those people in that room loved in ways I couldn't understand and wanted to get together to connect and support each other.
I...
What can I do to have that?
The ties Ray's family have make me want to go out of my way to get Ray and I to make an effort. My family is scattered and I wouldn't know where to start. And their connections don't feel as deep as the Wilson bond.
I've never seen or felt anything like it, sitting there at a stranger's wake, feeling like maybe I could be a part of that, and at the same time, feeling so god damned disconnected and alone.
Charles Washington Wilson was married for 67 years before he departed. 67 years. I stand here before you in awe, longing for even a little of what that family has.
Do you think... if I reach hard enough... I might be able to touch it?
Just a little?