There is a void that never goes out

It's good to be home with my own bed and a bigger variety of clothes. Traveling for four of the past five weeks sure makes me appreciate the simple pleasures of home. And since I've been back, I've done a lot of reflecting on one of the simple pleasures of life: being with family.

It was comforting to be with family. Between my family and Father in Chief's family, they were everywhere. Parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins and their families. What an amazing network of people to know. I have never lived near my family as an adult. I moved away from home to go to college the day before my 18th birthday. There were no summers at home (my school was year-round), and I never moved back home after college to regroup while job-hunting. For the bulk of my youth, I couldn't wait to get away from my family. I think most teenagers feel that way. And as an adult, I've ached to be near them. There's been a longing that is prevalent everyday.

That void has been amplified by the fact that I have a child now.

My youth was surrounded by family. My paternal grandparents lived three blocks one way; my maternal grandmother lived six blocks the other way; my aunt/uncle/cousins lived five houses down the street. These people were a part of our everyday lives. We got together for every birthday, no matter what day of the week it was. We spent all the major holidays together. During the summer, days were spent in my cousins' backyard pool.

My son's closest relative (besides his parents) lives 2,000 miles away. He won't have that close relationship with his grandparents that I had with mine. Yes, he knows them. But when you only see each other a couple of times a year, you live on the highs. I can't and don't blame the family. We chose to move here. We are the ones who left. I do my best to convince family to move here, but they all have their own lives there.

Mostly, those weeks on the east coast were a glimpse of what life would be like if we lived near our families as I did when I was a kid. That support network does not exist elsewhere. Yes, we have friends near and dear to our hearts. Yes, we have a fabulous child-care person who works for us a couple of hours a week. Yes, our families come to visit. Yes, we go there for special occasions. But it just isn't the same.

These relatives wanted to be with us, to spend time with Toddler in Chief. They wanted him for whole days and overnights and as much time as he could be spared before the next relative's time slot started. I trusted them to feed, bathe, diaper, drive him. They wanted me to have a break. They did this all for free.

I can imagine how life would be different for my family if relatives lived nearby. I'm envious of people who have that, and I understand why people want to move closer to home when babies are born. Having that family network would make couple's night out easier, it would make going back to school easier. It would make going back to work easier. Here in California, I've got my village, but I sometimes wish I just had a family.