This picture will forever be one of my favorites. The print quality is pretty terrible and we didn’t exactly dress for the occasion. Truth be told, I don’t even remember what the occasion was. Grant is with me, but not Brandon. Mary has on her Stagg’s apron, so she must’ve been on her way to work. Dad was enjoying a cigar. But it’s the last picture that I’m aware of that all seven of us kids are together with dad and MJ. That house can tell some stories. LOL!
Dad and MJ married in March 1987. I’m not sure that any of us really understood what this meant or how it would impact us. Seven kids ranging in age from 7 to 17 (and a dog and two cats) wasn’t your ordinary adventure. Parenting styles were often different. It was a lot. But one thing was apparent. They loved each other and they loved us.
As the oldest, I blazed a trail for those who came behind me. I’m not saying it was the best trail, but it was a trail nonetheless. There were mornings of frantic rushing out the door to school. Afternoons after school were no less chaotic as we were either running to jobs, sports practice, or some other activity. The Chevy Astro van was a game-changer for us.
I could write most of the evening about the nuances of life in this family. There was never a dull moment. But after all of these years, there’s something I’m coming to truly appreciate. The house was NOT spacious. We all shared bedrooms and most of the time there was more than one of us in the bathroom; privacy wasn’t exactly a thing. (Including a “window” in the wall between the only full bath and the master bedroom. LOL!) One of us might have been perfectly content with science projects growing in the filth in our bedroom, but the one sharing that room didn’t always appreciate those experiments. Clothes were often “borrowed”. It was mostly typical kid antics. But in multiples of seven.
The thing I’m now coming to appreciate is that this little house forced us to learn to do life together. There wasn’t the luxury of escaping. We often sat in awkward silence or raised our voices. We’re all fairly strong personalities, and it took some time to figure out how to make all of it work.
There’s a memory that sticks with me as a turning point. Melinda, Julie, and I must have all gone out with our respective friend groups on a Friday or Saturday night. If I had been drinking (or other extracurriculars), I still just walked in the back door as if it was a normal evening and headed for my bedroom. But Melinda and Julie (on this particular night) came in sometime after me and lingered in the kitchen. I ventured back out to see what they were doing. I found them sitting at the kitchen table with a bag of Fritos, a package of cream cheese, and a Mountain Dew. It didn’t take long for me to discern why they were “snacky”.
It would be easy to dismiss this story. But it was moments like this that, instead of hiding behind our bedroom doors, we came to learn about each other. We were often more alike than different. Just because we would disagree didn’t mean we shouldn’t love and support each other. And losing Michael in 2001 only made us stronger and has caused us to appreciate the bond that all began because dad and MJ fell in love and moved us into this little house.
I Timothy 5:8 ~ But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.