The In-Crowd...

I just came across this post, which I wrote back in July of 2009 but never put up on my blog. A friend had lost his father and I was incredibly moved by the funeral and the amazing group of people surrounding him and his family. I didn't post it then because it seemed to close to the event for them and I didn't want to cause them more pain, but I still believe strongly in what I felt then and hope that time has made reading it easier.

There is a special dynamic that exists only at weddings and funerals, both highlight the communities in which we live our daily lives and bring into focus those who are most important to our happiness.

At a wedding, everyone is there to support the couple and celebrate their future. You're all happy, of course, but there exists at every wedding the in-crowd, that group of individuals closest to the couple. You may not know their names, but you know who they are. They were the first to arrive, often by days, and are the last to leave at the end of the night. You see them on the dance floor the most, laughing as the songs take them back to earlier times and happy memories. You know without asking that they are having the most fun and will cherish the memories of the day as much as the couple at the center of their tribe that day.

This is one of the times that having an in-crowd is not negative. The members have all earned their place in the group over years, and indeed the celebration that day is as much about them as it is about those getting married. These are the individuals who often knew them before they were a couple, who agonized with them over what to wear on the first date and where to go. They held the box of tissue and ice cream (or beer and chips) and listened to the details of the fights and then rejoiced over the make-ups. They were the first ones called after the proposal was complete (and some of them probably knew before the one being asked).

They are also the ones who will still be there once the presents have been opened and everyone else has returned to their lives. They will help celebrate the highs and grieve during the lows that are a part of any couple's life. They are a part of the in-crowd in the best possible sense. The wedding marks a new stage in the community they have created, tying them closer together and celebrating what has gone before.

This same dynamic is in place at funerals. Everyone at the funeral knew and wanted to honor the person who passed away, although some are perhaps there more to support a friend close to them. Regardless, all are there to support the family in some way, but for those closest to the deceased the loss is sharper and clearer and more deeply felt. This is the in-crowd.

For this in-crowd, there is also an element of celebration to the day. They share memories of past times, laugh at their loved one's quirks and reflect on their strengths and the times they were there for them in ways little and big. They find solace in their shared grief and lean on each other for strength, gathering instinctively around those most affected by the loss and offering a temporary, if imperfect, shield against the pain.

Their job also continues once the funeral is over. For most people, life will go on much the same as it has in the past. For the in-crowd, the real work of grieving is only beginning. They will be there for the late night calls and the endless-seeming tears. They'll remember anniversaries and birthdays and lend extra support during those first, dreadful holidays. They'll help remember all the happy times of the past and be a reminder that they will come again at a time when it is hard to imagine just that.

These are the in-crowds without which life would not only have much less joy but would also have much more pain.

Finding the significant everyday...

My aunt is a generally great person and a wonderful writer. A friend of mine loves her (Woohoo! was the email I received when she got to meet her) and once told me it was in part because she finds something to write about every day, an inspiration for my friend. I thought of this today because I've been itching to write, but have been waiting for something to happen "worth" writing about. I realized that my aunt, whose children are long gone, already knows something that I am just learning, that it's often the small events in life that are the most significant.

I haven't in the last month had any earth-shattering moments, my days follow each other in a set pattern that wouldn't keep even the most dedicated reader awake. Yet, every day small things happen that I might not even realize I was missing if I was at work but which make a memory I will treasure when I am older or create a connection with my kids that they will remember in years to come.

Lazy summer days at the pool are a gift that should not be underestimated. Playing endless rounds of jump in the pool with TR, seeing the increasing confidence with which CJ paddles around the shallow end and watching AJ take the first steps towards independence from mom with his own friends and activities, are all amazing opportunities. It was at the pool this week that CJ and I talked about marriage, and he declared that "Me and AJ are not going to get married. I mean, come on, we're boys, we don't even like girls." It was also there I got to see AJ proudly pull out his own dollar, from his allowance, to pay for ice cream rather than getting one from me.

TR's nap is another important time each day. Putting him down is one of the few points in the day when I am able to focus exclusively on him and there has evolved a rather elaborate set of routines in his mind. Much of the now limited snuggle time I get these days occurs then, which makes me happy, and he is able to choose the books himself rather than sharing with older brothers. Once he is down, the older boys are able to move at their level. I've introduced them to the wonders of Narnia and today we had a fairly involved conversation about heaven and death while drawing pictures for friends whose grandfather passed away.

My favorite moment this week did not involve me at all. Having sent the boys outside to play (and give myself some breathing room), I looked out the window and saw them sitting in a circle. They had collected stones and were sitting around a "campfire" talking. They were up and moving around in a few minutes, but the sight of three little boys hanging out and enjoying each other so naturally is one that will stay with me forever.

I am not a natural stay-at-home mom and at least once a day find myself wistfully thinking of what I could be doing in the "real world." Just as often, however, I realize how lucky I am to be able to share in the small events that together will become the most significant part of my childrens' lives.