Wednesday, November 16, 2005
I didn't choose these people...but I guess they are OK
NJ recap: off we went with Ella and Lindsay for a 5-day dash (2 in the air, 3 on the ground) to Chatham and other scenic northern NJ suburbs. I won't bore you with the details of the trip. If you made it past yesterday's graphic description of Lindsay's phlegmy state, then you deserve a break.The time with my mom and step-dad was great -- they are fun to be around, interesting to talk to, and fantastic grandparents. And I totally dig my sister and her husband and my adorable little niece. Surprisingly, the time with my dad and his extended family was actually OK. My dad seemed more relaxed than I've seen him in a long time, even though 1) he is now playing Mr. Mom at nearly 63 years old to my 4- and 1-year-old "brothers" -- Zach and Andrew; 2) we were "burying" his father that weekend; 3) he was off his home turf; and 4) he hosted 15 people (including 5 kids under the age of 6) in his hotel "suite" on Saturday night.
The service at a Westfield, NJ, cemetery -- home to the Taggart family plot, apparently (great grandpa and grandma, now grandfather, assorted grand aunts and who knows) -- was short and sweet and, well, appropriate. I was glad that my uncle, who bore the brunt of my grandfather's decline in recent years, was honest in mentioning the terrible toll that alcohol took on Campbell's life and his relationships. My dad's side of the family is all too familiar with struggles with the bottle, and Tom made pointed reference to the awareness we Taggarts all must have of this lurking menace in our genes. Is that over the top? I don't know -- I think it's in there somewhere, and I think Tom and I (if I may self-identify) are the first two Taggart men in quite a while to avoid this unfortunate family trait. Tom has taken it on more...formally, as he doesn't drink anymore and attends AA. Hope that's not a secret! I...well, I think about the boasting I've done of my drinking exploits, and I think of the tendency I still can show to binge when the opportunity presents itself, and maybe I'm not totally clear of the legacy. I'd like to think I am -- in an average week, I might have one or two drinks, total. That to me is not a problem...and I can look back and see when it was problematic and had all the chance in the world to blossom into a full-blown problem. Am I rationalizing? Maybe -- and yet I still know that alcohol will not control me, and I am doing my best to make good choices in all aspects of my life so as to lead the Taggart name in a better direction.Sweet jesus -- step down off the pulpit! I didn't mean for this post to be so...about me. Back to the weekend -- Tom spoke a wonderful piece, as did my dad and aunt. Tom read the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi, which says in part "For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned...." That really resonated with me, as I stood a few feet away from my own father, whom I have never really pardoned for his mistakes, his failings, his weaknesses. And we were burying his father, with whom my dad had (I think) some of the same issues. Vicious cycle, this paternal bullshit.
I saw my two cousins (19 and 17 I think) for the first time in about four years, and they've turned into really cool kids. I enjoyed talking to them. My aunt was her usual sweet but superficial self -- you can never quite get past the surface with her. She's like her mother -- always acting as if everything is OK even as tragedy and sadness batter the foundation.
I don't know when we'll all be together again, and that's OK. My family has never really been big on large gatherings. The behavior was exemplary -- funny how a graveside discourse on alcoholism will keep the drinking to a minimum throughout the weekend. Let's hope that sets the tone for future family events.
End of the trip photo, below.
// posted by Bill @ 7:59 PM 
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Nice end-of-trip photo! I'm glad your nuclear family is back safe and sound. And that there were no fireworks in N.J. What you said about your dad burying his dad with whom he'd had a lot of the same issues really struck me. I had the same feeling at my own paternal grandfather's funeral. In a way, it was sad that one of them was being buried with so many issues left unresolved, but in another way it isn't our faults that our dads never worked it out with their own dads. It's their problem and, unfortunately, it sort of got passed down to become our problem. It's a gift that can keep on giving until someone stops the madness, which you have by choosing not to live life out of a bottle. More power to you.
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