Learning from loss

My dad lost two distant uncles this past week. He was related to both of them from his dad's side.

Since I was very young when we moved to the States, I'm not too good with remembering distant relatives. Sadly, my parents have also grown apart from most of our distant relatives that still remain overseas. For my parents, hearing the news of someone passing is an emotional moment. Endless promises of "see you soon, God-willing" come rushing to the forefront, as do memories from their younger years when life was perhaps simpler and they remained in contact with even the farthest corners of our family.

For my siblings and I, hearing the same news is often puzzling. "I think I knew him...was he the one with the rabbits? Or the really tall one? Or the one who wrote all those books?" My mom then goes through an endless lineage of how I'm actually related to the person.

Out of these sad yet inevitable events comes one of my favorite family traditions. If we hear of someone's passing, no matter how distant they may be, that evening we take a moment...usually thirty minutes or so, and Mom and Dad tell stories of highlights from the deceased's life and pray for them. We learn of how the extended families were exposed to someone's desire for making a movie, or publishing books...or maybe how someone was taken as a prisoner of war for eight years. For thirty minutes, I feel as though I grew up with the person. I get a glimpse into the life of hardship yet simplicity that a distant relative grew up in. They may no longer be alive, but at least a part of their story lives on.

All families have these stories. Your dad's distant cousin's father...how he may have tried his entrepreneurial knack at so many different things. All these stories are so vital to a family, yet hardly any family takes the time to write them down. I suggested this to my mom tonight. I think she should make this her project. She was so close with so many of our distant relatives. It would be fascinating to read about how each of them was unique and important. I doubt she'll do it...I don't think she really realizes the value of it. And so time will continue and generations will pass...and someday a distant cousin of mine will have his son tell a story of a guy named Uncle Asim...I hope I leave a story worth telling.