Connections, by Phillip Hoyle

On the holiday the Clan, my partner’s family, gathered for one of their periodic get-togethers. As usual the food was good, the conversations lively, the four generations in constant communication over what is occurring in their lives. This time the gathering was at our house where matriarch Ruth, Jim, and I live. Jim had prepared a special feature: videos of past events, ones recorded by a late partner, DB, who had related to the family more years than I have. (I’m up to 14 years.) DB died a few months ago and the showing provided family members a reminder of his contributions to their life. I enjoyed hearing them laugh at how they looked back then. I listened to their conversations about what they were seeing and realized how we newer members had missed a lot.

The youngest child, Ruth’s great-granddaughter, a precocious and rather insistent five-year-old with long blond hair tied back with a bow that matched her beautiful spring dress, kept coming indoors where the videos were running to see if her mother was on the screen. To me the mother and daughter appear to be twins separated by many years—insistent, mouthy, strong. The little one enjoyed playing with me—high fives, snatches of conversation, laughs, and flirtations. She seemed to want my attention. Jim told me she had asked him toward the end of the afternoon, “Where’s Uncle Jim?” He said, “I’m Uncle Jim.” She said, “No, not you.” He said, “Oh, you mean Uncle Phil.” “Yes.” So I made a new connection to the family through its youngest member.

© 10 April 2017

About the Author

Phillip Hoyle lives in Denver and spends his time writing, painting, and socializing. In general he keeps busy with groups of writers and artists. Following thirty-two years in church work and fifteen in a therapeutic massage practice, he now focuses on creating beauty. He volunteers at The Center leading the SAGE program “Telling Your Story.”

He also blogs at artandmorebyphilhoyle.blogspot.com