A Death in the Family

This weekend we had the memorial service for my wife’s grandmother, who died a few weeks ago. She was a wonderful woman, very much la doña for this Hispanic side of the family, very much more of a mother than a grandmother to my wife, and she was the last of her generation. The get-together of family and friends was a celebration of her life, and it was the kind of party I think we would all want – certainly the kind of party I’d like for myself when the time comes – with tears, sure, but more laughter and shared stories of love than anything else.

For my wife, the loss she experiences most keenly is the loss of her grandmother-the-person and the special bond they had. I feel that, too, but obviously more as a reflection and without the unique closeness. That slightly distanced perspective, however, let me experience a different sort of loss, the loss of her grandmother-the-idea and the unifying force she emanated across all of those family and friends. Because what hit me hard as we were saying our goodbyes was that I won’t see most of these people ever again. It’s not that I don’t want to see them again – they’re nice, loving people and I very much enjoy my time with them – but there’s no reason for me to see (or even think about!) most of these people ever again.

I’m sure I’ll see some of my wife’s close family members again, because there are direct connections of friendship and shared experience that exist alongside the reason for connection that my wife’s grandmother provided. But it’s harder now. While my wife’s grandmother was alive, it took zero effort for my wife to think about her cousin, say, or her uncle, and vice versa. The connections of family and the thinking about family and the news of family and the occasional get-togethers of family were part and parcel of the meaning of her grandmother, and so long as her grandmother was alive, so were those connections of meaning.

It’s not that those connections of meaning just vanish with the death of a matriarch or patriarch, but now everyone has to make an intentional effort to keep those connections alive, and that is NOT easy. We get busy. Life gets in the way. Old grievances resurface and strengthen, often under the stress of divvying up (literally disconnecting) money and property. It’s nobody’s fault and everyone is doing the best they can, but the loss of a family-unifying parent or grandparent isn’t just the loss of a physical person, it’s also the loss of a family-unifying idea in its natural and organic and effortless form.

It’s not just families where we experience the loss of a unifying idea and a shared meaning of community. If you’ve ever worked for a company that failed, you know exactly what I mean. If you’ve ever worked for a political campaign that lost, you know exactly what I mean. It’s possible to stay connected with your coworkers, with your ‘work family’, and maybe you will if you put a lot of effort into staying connected. But you probably won’t.

I think we had a death in the American family over the past few days, and with it the death of the America-unifying idea.

I think the office of the President of the United States -- the personification of the idea that there is a shared meaning in being an American -- is now dead. Yes, the Presidency has been sick for many years now. We all know that. But for me at least, and I suspect many others, it threw in the towel for good this week.