What People Who Don't Come From a Dysfunctional Family Don't Understand

As the past weekend ground to a close, I received news that an aunt of mine had passed away. Yesterday, I was given funeral service times, and although I am unable to attend, it brought painfully back to mind the fact that I live a different existence; one that not everyone understands.

See, like most of my family, I didn't know this aunt at all. I have met her in the past, but I was a child and only remember being pressed into throngs of people who loomed much larger than my hobbit sized body. When I stretch for a visual image, I bring up a memory bank of several, but wouldn't really be able to eliminate more than one or two of those faces from being possibly hers.

It seems almost selfish to say that I look at large families at friendly gatherings, and I'm a little jealous. The companionship they enjoy has not been a significant part of my existence, and it tweaks a little part of me.

Now, in the interest of full disclosure, and not wanting to elicit a pity party, I must honestly confess that some part of the fault of that was mine. My in laws had some of those gatherings, and seeking greener pastures, I chose to leave the area my wife considers home and move on. For the brief time I actually saw it, I didn't genuinely appreciate it.

But as I've grown older I think of things I wish I'd known. Cousins that I wish I was able to join with in sharing some of the joys and heartaches of parenting, aunts and uncles I wish I could mine for their wisdom and life experiences. But the road I've walked didn't lead in that direction, and so we spend holidays trying to make the holidays better for others who don't have one. That certainly brings with it its own share of happiness, but it also reminds me that there is a whole realm of "normal" that I will never truly understand.

And as my family gathers to my aunt's funeral and prepares her for her final burial, I find myself without the grief that I should feel. If, by some chance I were able to go, I would be in the most horrifying situation imaginable for me: in the midst of a roomful of strangers, all with families, that I should know but don't.

I am eternally grateful for the family that I do have; it's far more than I ever expected or deserved. But I also, at times, find myself wishing that I understood just what it means to be "normal".