When I was a teenager, I always made an effort to have a good time — but whether I went out or stayed in, I always made it a point to surround myself with friends. I thought the simple joys in life, like watching the sunset on the beach or eating a really good meal, should be shared with friends. Family always got thrown on the back-burner. Aside from my mother, who I consider to be my best friend (yeah, I’m one of those), I always pushed my family away and just thought of them as people I would see during the holiday season. I loved them, but I needed a social life. Most of my family lives in Canada, so it was just easier to catch up once I saw them in person, which only happened once or twice a year.
In early May, I graduated college. My senior year of college was a big eye opener. My grandfather — my father’s father — suffered from a stroke, resulting in weeks of hospital care. Suddenly, conversations that I should have had with my grandfather about his interesting life and broad travels are no longer an option. His speech is impaired, his concentration is lost, and his memory is weak. The memories he made when he was my age are now locked away deep inside his mind, no longer to be reminisced.
I had no time for my family, not only because I did not make the effort, but also because my school load had taken over my social life. For my graduation, my mother’s family all came down from Montreal to support me. As the days passed and their return came closer, the longing for a connection to them grew deeper. I’ve always liked to think that I am close to my family, but in reality I know very little about them. So, as soon as I got my diploma, I packed my bags and flew to Montreal to hear stories, gain memories, embrace the love that would not always be available, and drink some amazing Tim Hortons coffee.
I saw my younger cousin — who I had once held in my arms as a baby — drive a car. My grandmother gave me guidance based on her experience as a twenty-year-old mother of two. My grandfather — my mother’s father — who was once somewhat of a “hard ass,” transformed into the most gentle member of our family. As small as these moments may seem, they were significant in my overall outlook on life. My family — people who I had argued with about petty things like waking up at noon — suddenly became the one thing that made me happiest in life.
Whether it’s your real family or a group of people you’ve adopted as your family, it is important to remember that they are the ones who will be there for you at the end of the day. So, you should be there for them just the same. It would be nice to think that they will always be around to share stories, but that is not the case. Take the time to not only build memories with them, but listen to their memories and the advice that they can give you based on their experiences. The people who have the most interesting outlooks on life are those who have already lived it.