By Land and By Sea
Even if it is 40 degrees in Chicago in April, sometimes a boy’s gotta’ fish.
Last week was Passover, so we took a little time off work, hosted a few guests. Something of a family reunion. Although not everyone could make it, attendance was good.
We’re at Lincoln Park, here, FD’s showing the giraffes our kite. They were impressed.
Once or twice, if you’re a regular reader, you’ve found me depressed after a holiday break like this. The kids come, they go, they take my grandchildren with them. They threaten to leave one or two behind, but the little people somehow find their way to their car seats at the end of the holiday. Although I miss them already, it’s okay. It always was.
We played a lot of games, some indoors. This year’s indoor Bozo’s Grand Prize Game was even more of a hit than last year. I didn’t tell the kids that Bozo the Clown has passed on to that big circus in the sky.
There’s this idea that children really prefer a good cardboard box to the toy inside, and it has been shown, without a doubt, to be statistically significant. After they all left I spent a bit of time smashing boxes for recycling, and throwing things away. I spent about eight hours getting my house together, and will need another couple of weeks to find things, return them to their proper owners. (Empath Daught, if you’re reading this, I found some make-up with the chometz (rhymes with dumb-its, means not for Passover use), and someone’s sleeveless tee-shirt is still hanging in the bathroom upstairs.)
What else, what else. The best thing about a family reunion is that the generations divide. Sure, it’s great for the grandparents to bond with everyone, but leaving the younger people to talk until 3 a.m., just talk, catch up on their lives, and me and FD not hearing a word of it, is kind of wonderful, if you ask me.
This is the essence, really, of a family therapy, that siblings should have their own relationship with one another, not something based upon their relationship to their parents, although that’s obviously okay, too. The closeness is something to shoot for, and the way to shoot for it is to get the parents out of the room.
Same thing, really, with marriage. You have to get your parents out of that relationship, too, although it’s surely a good thing that they’re there, if they are there, when you need them. Nothing like having a parent around when you need one. Same, too, with kids. I called one of mine yesterday. Conversation went like this:
Uh, honey, are you around tomorrow at noon?
Son: I think so!
Great, the guy is coming to fix the dryer and I’m with patients until 1:00.
Son: No problem. Will there be food?
What else, what else.
You can establish a boundary around your practice, with enough practice. My practice is full and yet I was gone for 10 days and had maybe 2 phone calls while I was off, from new patients. I’m not sure how you do this, but it is worth working at. Using your team, using the patient’s resources, this is all in there somewhere, as is encouraging independence. I guess we should talk about it more sometime.
What else, what else. I read a good book by Colm Toibin, Brooklyn. It’s a post-war book about a nice kid from Ireland who comes to America, leaves her family behind knowing that at most she will see them once a year, traveling by boat. She’s here in America for a better life. It’s a wonderful novel, rich in character insight. The whole idea of separating from family for a whole year is mind-boggling, isn’t it? And yet people used to do it all the time, and many still do.
And I complain about a few months apart from mine.
therapydoc
