Inside jokes, acknowledgment of the odd, unconventional ways we had been gifted by this man. Only five people on this earth know what it means to be my father's child. They are smart, talented, each has a terrific sense of humor. They are, one and all, survivors. I'm speaking, of course, of my brother, my sisters and me.
Memorial services are important rituals for the living community.
At their depth, they can be venues of memory, storytelling, forgiveness, reconciliation, and acknowledgment of love and mystery. In a culture as steeped in denial as ours, however, many people find funerals and wakes shallow and unsatisfying. Creating a separate time, a long breakfast at a diner, for just me and my siblings to talk about Dad, filled some of the gap which the usual rituals left. It also gave us a focus for reconnecting as, simultaneously, the children, adolescents and adults that we have been and are. That awareness of all our selves is a key to understanding siblinghood.