Sister Time

There’s nothing like a sister. Try three sets of sisters. Three sets of sisters who relish their time together. That’s the happy occasion when the Cassells, Calhoun, and McDole women get together for Sister Time during the week of Relay for Life.

My sister Reenié flies in from Detroit. Judy’s sister Jan comes in from Reno.  Then, my two daughters Amina, from Los Angeles, and Asila, from North Carolina, round out the sextet. 

The Sensational Six: Reenie, me, Amina, Judy, Asila, and Jan

Originally, the Relay was our reason for gathering. Now, in addition, we rendezvous because we enjoy each others’ company and want to have quality time together. Over the years, we’ve instituted several traditions. Some have been set aside as we attempt to honor and support each others’ health needs.

A few traditions have remained constant from the beginning. Somewhere in our schedule, we must fit in a trip to Lamont for dinner at El Pueblo, our favorite Mexican restaurant. Most of us order their signature shrimp dish, Cancun, but a few branch out and try other delights. 

‘ Treats’ is  of another enduring tradition. In a ceremonial atmosphere, each sister receives small gifts from all the others. After this year’s fun-filled exchange, we all agreed that this practice is so neat because these little gifts are sought out with each person in mind and presented with love. 

The most wonderful aspect of Sister Time is reconnecting. We take time out of our busy lives to be present in the circle of sisterhood. We catch up with each other in real conversations, face-to-face. We reaffirm our bonds and spread the love. 

There’s nothing like a sister, but there’s really nothing like spending quality time together. We can’t wait until next year. 

~ xoA

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When Friends Become Family

Families are like potlucks. We partake of whatever’s there. Some dishes we love and want more helpings, and others we take with a grain of salt or test a spoonful at a time. A few dishes, we may have sampled before and know that they are not to our particular taste so we leave them alone.

Gene & Elaine

The Women of Substance

Friends are different. Circumstances or the Universe bring us together, and before we know it, those folks have a home in our hearts. Often it happens when we’re lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time, like I was when I ran into Elaine and Gene in Rooster’s, a little coffee shop in Medford, Oregon. Or, when I met those seven extraordinary women by merely walking into Counseling 101 at Cal State Bakersfield back in 1995.

After the initial contact, some of those friends draw even closer; they become like family. Unlike the days when people stayed put, biological families are often spread out across the country or the globe.  We’ve begun to enfold the folks whose lives intersect with ours on a regular basis, and regard them as family. They become our “Family of Choice.”

The mutual love, respect, and caring that bind families of choice are every bit as present and strong as our best relationships with the family into which we were born. We are there to support and help in times of trouble and to celebrate the moments of joy. 

Sometimes it’s day-to-day contact. We’re helping each other with child-care, making a dinner to share, running an errand, working together on a project, or otherwise checking in. When miles separate us, the warm feeling we have from understanding our special relationship as part of each others’ family of choice lifts our spirits.

These past few years, I’ve been proud and grateful to witness and take part in countless examples of families of choice in action. I’ve seen friends take on the roles of sisters, brothers, parents, and kids, many handling responsibilities that had traditionally been up to family members.

It was the set of friends, the family of choice, who sat with one of my former colleagues in the hospital as she transitioned during her last hour of life when there was no way that her out-of-state siblings could get there.
 

Karen, Marilyn, Mary, and Annie

My Coos Bay, Oregon, family of choice cheered and celebrated with me and for me when my story in Chicken Soup for the Soul was published last summer. Two of them, Karen and Marilyn, were the catalysts for the gratifying book signing event that occurred there.

And, I can never adequately express my appreciation to “Mom Jane,” a retired nurse in Chapel Hill, NC, who accompanied my daughter Asila to numerous medical appointments. When we talk about Asila, we refer to her as “our daughter.”
 

As human beings, we have an innate need for love and belonging. Being part of a family unit is a prime factor in fulfilling that need, no matter the unit’s origin. Blood may be thicker than water, but it’s also friends who’ve become family who add depth, happiness, and richness to our lives.
 

Who are some of the people who are part of your family of choice?

~ xoA ~

Remembering Dad

Thomas L. Cassells, Sr.

October 6, 1917 - March 14, 1972

Circa 1945

He was there for my first bath --GAVE me my first home bath. He took me for my first swim in the Detroit River, urging me to “just jump in and move your arms like this,” as he demonstrated the free-style stroke. Years later, he gave me driving lessons alongside that same body of water. My sophomore year, he couldn’t wait until Christmas so he surprised me with a portable typewriter one day in October when Mom was out shopping. He smiled broadly when my first daughter was born and said, “You did good.” When my second daughter came along, he was delighted again. 

As a teenager, I was mortified. His jokes were corny. He sang old-fashioned songs off key. The man wandered around the house in boxer shorts, wearing shaving cream on his face, as if waiting for his beard to grow! Getting permission to go out two weekends in a row was out of the question.

When I became an adult and then a parent, I began to understand him. His teachings, strict rules, and often stern demeanor were for our safety. He wanted us to become upstanding, respectful people. He loved us enough to be a parent instead of a friend. And, though he didn’t say the words much, we knew he loved us.

We lost Dad way too soon -- when Tom, Reenié, and I were just beginning to blossom into the young adults he’d primed us to be. But, he is with us every day as the lessons he taught us come to mind or we remember and quote some of his sayings. We often remark that he was a man ahead of his time, and today we know how lucky we were to experience childhood under his roof. Thanks, Dad.

~ xoA ~