on family, my name and getting it...kinda...
post by Lindsey
Morgan
It
has been a really long time since I have attended a Morgan Family gathering,
the extended Morgan Family that is…so long, I am sad to report I don’t think I
can even recall the last time more than 2 or 3 of us were together.
I
know Uncle Greg stopped just a few months ago when he saw me in the parking lot
at work, and his son Wes is friends with the brothers of one of my youth
groupers. I might cross paths with Wes or Matthew 5 or 10 times a week in
our small South Tampa community. For all I know Wes and I could be
standing at the same bar ordering drinks every now and then…
I
remember a visit from Uncle Sundance to St. Louis, maybe, when I was in high
school? That was at least 12 or 13 years ago now.
I
think the last time I saw Jim, we were living in Miami and we had Thanksgiving
on Key Biscane…we beat Kunkle butt playing street football and Mary made
Stouffers mac and cheese for Ben…because he was still an incredibly picky eater
those days…not much has changed.
I
honestly though don’t remember the last time I saw most of The Morgan
Family.
I
remember when I was in preschool or early elementary school my dad teaching me
the names of all of his siblings and memorizing them in age order…I guess the
way he ran through them in his head as well.
Jimmy,
Lynn, Wes, Greg, Dan, Rob
I
had to include my dad in that list to remember everyone.
But…then
I had to learn that Jimmy was really Sundance and Lynn was really Mary Lynn and
Wes and Greg, though a year apart graduated together, and Dan took pictures and
Rob would always be the youngest, no matter how old they all got. AND
THEN look at the baby and childhood pictures—they all looked the same with
those HUGE coke bottle glasses!
I
can give you the names…
Sundance
and Iris have no kids (he was married once before her I think and Iris is a
twin, something I always thought was kinda cool!)
Lynn
has two sons Jimmy and Philip (both older than me) Jimmy is now married
with a beautiful daughter. My dad, it seems, has always been close to
Jimmy.
Wes,
my dad is still married to my mom and my brother and I continue to plug along
in our own little bubbles. My little brother is engaged to be married
sometime soon-ish…
Greg
was married to Donda and had two sons, Wesley (named after my dad ) and Matthew
(born on my dad’s birthday) but he is now remarried to Ellen and has 2
step-kids too…
Dan
has now married his second wife Annette (no kids)
Rob
has been married to Joy for almost as long as my parents have been married and
they have 3 kids. Megan, Tara and Kevin…I don’t know if I have ever met
any of them.
You
know what, come to think of it…I don’t think I have ever been in a situation
where I was in the same place as my dad and his 5 siblings. If I was, I
certainly don’t remember it. I only have fuzzy memories of my one visit
to that stately home on Lake Eerie where my dad grew up. I only know that
place in pictures. I remember playing with a red and blue electronic toy
in a room upstairs. I think the toy looked like a nutcracker. I only
vaguely remember visiting the house on Key Biscane with my family and
Greg’s. I remember spending more time swimming that visit than anything
else. I think most of those memories are from pictures though.
I
don’t have lots of memories of The Morgan Family from growing up. I
remember a lot of everything…so I remember the stories my dad has told me…but
it seems almost trivial now.
My
dad saw all of his siblings last week. I don’t know if he remembers the
last time that happened. When I saw the picture, ironically posted on
facebook, I was honestly taken aback to see all 6 siblings standing there
smiling with their father just in front.
Kevin,
the youngest cousin on our dad’s side graduated from high school last week…but
that is not what brought the masses together.
My
dad’s mom died last week and it hurts a lot that it doesn’t really hurt.
I mean, that sounds wrong…and really is wrong…it hurts, but not the way I think
it should. I don’t feel like I lost something in my life. Mary
Francis Lawton Morgan did not play a big role in my life, but regardless of
that—she was a huge part of my life.
My
heart hurt and my stomach churned 15 months ago when I found out two women I
had grown up with, friends of my grandmother, parents of my mom’s friends passed
away those cold February days…just hours apart.
When
I woke to an email obituary from my dad announcing his 89 year old mother had
passed away I surmised that was the cause for 3 early-morning missed calls on
my cell from my mom. I called her casually. She confirmed her
reason for calling. I was not upset…not until I thought about the
prospect of not being there for my dad.
This
was in fact his mother…his one and only mother…and despite or maybe more
accurately in spite of our non-existent relationship, it is because of her my
dad is the man he is, why I am inherently the person I have become.
I
have learned more about Mary Morgan in her death than I think I knew of her in
life.
My
dad is a great, succinct writer. I am not. I write where my head
goes. I use ellipses, unnecessary commas and strange punctuation.
Sometimes when I start writing I have no idea where I am going to end
up. Sometimes I start with one intention in mind and end up elsewhere
entirely. Most of the time I write with meaning, I don’t know why I feel
the need to write. I just do.
I
don’t feel like I should be writing any great epic story of why family is
important or how I can love my dad’s mom in spite of her seeming lack of care
for me (or my brother—but my feelings are mine and not to be displaced on to
him) my life, my successes, my growth, my achievements…I can’t say any of that
because it is not true. I didn’t know the woman to love her.
What
I CAN share is what has been ruminating in my head and my heart since I read
that email just over one week ago.
MANY
years ago I sat in a session with one of my favorite teachers (MAF) and was
walked through a process that left us discussing THE VALUE OF OUR NAMES.
In Judaism traditionally you name your children after someone that has passed
away as an honor to their memory. You hope that child will possess the
qualities and characteristics so many loved about the person or people that
have passed away. I always got uncomfortable talking about my
name. Lindsey Lawton Morgan…well Lindsey is after my great grandfather
Lou, but also a combination of Lynn and Wesley, my parents…Lawton was always a
challenge for me though. First off…when I was younger we lived in the
northeast and all of my friends had middle names like Sarah and Rachel and
Marissa and Beth…Nobody had “weird” maiden name middle names. “ Lawton is the
maiden name of my dad’s mother,” I would always say. “Your grandmother,
you mean…” people would reply. This would invite a conversation about how
yes Mary was my grandmother…but I never really did those grandmotherly things
with her…I don’t think I ever thought about calling Mary grandma vs. granny vs.
grandmother…I mean, Jim and Mary were always just Jim and Mary.
I
didn’t think about any of this really until I thought about this all through
the lens of my dad. No matter how I felt about her or our
relationship…this woman was still my dad’s one and only mom.
She
worked hard to raise 6 kids.
She
earned a masters degree after 40.
She
was active in the community.
She
loved theater.
She
encouraged my dad and his siblings to try new things.
They played sports like hockey and football
Even though my dad was the runt!
They explored different art expressions
Like painting
Like writing
Like photography.
Like music.
They all ventured to different places in search of continuing education
My dad to Miami, Sundance to the military and “real world”
She
made religious education a priority.
Even if the nuns made my dad pee his pants…
I,
for the first time see the things I love most about my dad and the relationship
I have with him as a direct reflection of her.
I
grew up listening to Broadway Showtunes...not on the family piano…but on the
record player.
I
begged for technique of the week all day Saturday and Sunday.
I
thank God ALL the time for the cute little Irish nose and the genes that made
it so.
My
parents met because my dad went to Miami.
I
know my parents love each other…through thick and thin…they WERE tested from
the beginning…
I
don’t know…I am who I am because he is who he is…and he is that way because she
was who she was…
So
I think now for the first time I can appreciate it….
I
think more now than ever before I am proud to carry on the name…
Maybe
I didn’t know her in life, but maybe this was meant to open our eyes and
encourage us to take advantage of the time we do have…spend more time
together….embrace the now…don’t sweat the small stuff…all those cliché’s.
It
is what it is.
Posted by LM at 7:39 AM
Sent to me via e-mail June 2011
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