Quick note: My online writing community, The Habit, has just launched its own Substack, The Habit Portfolio. You can subscribe and receive weekly stories, essays, or poetry written by Habit members. My short story, “Carla and the Prez,” is found in the archives here.
Our summer has flown, and I’m left trying to describe it. With Dad Warnemuende’s passing a month ago we’ve had a world-shift, a life-shift. Yet since my immediate family (Kraig and our kids) live over a thousand miles away from Kraig’s folks, our day-to-day life has, for the most part, slipped back into our regular routine. I’m not quite sure how to think about that, much less put it into words. It seems wrong somehow, even though both my family and Kraig’s have grown up with these long-distance relationships. We are where God has placed us, and we navigate.
I have many friends and acquaintances who are great fans of the author, Wendell Berry, so I apologize that I haven’t managed to become one. I know he writes excellently—there’s no question of that—and I appreciate his motivation and heart. I also know I need to read more of his work before finalizing any opinions. Unfortunately the one book of his that I have read, Hannah Coulter, chafed me in all the wrong ways. This was because of his portrayal of the fragmenting of a family when the grown children moved away from their hometown. I know that wasn’t the main point of the book, but as someone who has lived for most of my life with family in different states or countries, this part of the story bothered me. It bothered me because even though we have often been far away from each other, there is an underlying connection that hasn’t broken even when we don’t have frequent contact.
During the two weeks we were in Michigan, all three of Kraig’s siblings were there, and all fourteen living Warnemuende grandkids were there for a good portion of the time, and of course Kraig’s mom. My parents came through for a couple days around the funeral, as did the parents of one of Kraig’s sister-in-laws. It was two weeks of constant people, and lots of family interactions, all up close and personal. We are not a quiet, reserved crew, and we land differently in various life arenas—politics, church denominations and worship preferences, experiences. Some of those experiences have left deep scars still being dealt with, and they fester at times. Our kids are almost all teens at this point, and large, and they love to get into the thick of things themselves (I won’t even try to explain their epic story-building role-plays). They are the next generation pushing up into this crew with hope and struggle.
And yet the beautiful thing about the time was we all pulled together. We were in it to help Mom, Dad, and each other as we navigated this new frontier. We had the same foundation: trust in God and hope in Christ, and we knew that no matter what, we were family. We are family. There’s no escaping it no matter how many miles divide us.
All that said, though, sometimes I wonder if my dislike of how the family scatters in Hannah Coulter has root in fears I have for my family. So far so good, the thought whispers, but look at how easy it is to just live your life here and now without paying attention to the family that’s distant. If you aren’t careful…. We have the means these days to stay in communication—texting, video chats, etc.—and it’s easy to think that perhaps we aren’t doing all we should to stay close. How do we navigate that?
I don’t have an answer. I know I can only live so much life remotely; we’ve all seen how ineffective virtual communities are without some sort of in-person connection. Perhaps the best thing we can do is lean into the physical people around us—our immediate family, our neighbors, our friends, our colleagues and church. This does seem to be a theme that Wendell Berry shows in Hannah Coulter, and it’s important. But we can also pray that others are doing the same for our loved ones who live far away so that they have community, too. Then, when we do get the chance to meet in person, we can live fully together for the time we have, and look forward to the day there will be no more separation.
Art for the Week
My daughter Clare likes to sketch as she listens to teachers, lectures, or sermons. She sketched these buildings last March during the Square Halo conference that we went to in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I love the various structures!
Check out Daughter of Arden at Bandersnatchbooks.com, along with other great titles.
You can find links to more of my writing at A Shaft of Sun Through the Rain and my old blog, Willing, Wanting, Waiting.
Don’t forget to check out Bandersnatch Books’ podcast, including my interview in Season 1, episode 2!
I love your intentionality about family. I come from an “out of sight, out of mind” family and we see each other sometimes no more than once a year (and we’re all in Mississippi except for one sibling who lives next door in Alabama.) I bet your mother-in-law has found a great deal of comfort in having all of y’all near her in her loss. It’s beautiful to see.
This is lovely. I appreciate your honesty as you navigate family scattered yet still remaining close. It is about being intentional and held by a great Love!