Carrying the Emotional Baggage of Family

Have you ever stopped to think how much emotional baggage we carry around?

Now, I'm not suggesting that it's bad or anything like that. But THERE'S SO MUCH OF IT!!!! And for me, at times it feels awfully heavy.

Returning to My Roots

I just drove my uncle north to West Virginia. It gave me a lot of time to think. And frankly, it's taken me a while to sort out all the junk it's raised within me.

Every time I return to the hills I'm flooded with memories of family and good times, as well as a few long-suppressed ones that weren't so good. This trip wasn't any different.

My uncle's home had been my grandparents' place before him, where they raised him and my mother and six other kids, most of whom grew up and scattered with the winds. My uncle stayed to take care of my grandparents.

While scattering was the norm, our family didn't separate, though. My uncle made sure of that, never marrying but having surrogate kids like me scattered across the states. Traveling from home to home to stay connected and ever-present in each others' lives.

We responded to his love and caring, too, and that of our parents for their siblings' families. For no matter how distant, somehow we stayed closely knit, always tied not only by phone calls and occasional reunions, but also by that little white house at the foot of the mountain on the banks of Cabin Creek.