Meaning of 'family' bent a bit by Alaska's remote location

December 23rd 3:27 pm | Carey Restino    

For the past week, my parents have been in town. It's only the second time in the nearly two decades my sister and I have lived up here that they made the trip in winter. And, in true Alaska style, they got winter — the full-blast blended margarita-like slurpee snow in-your-face kind of winter. It blew. It snowed. It rained. It froze. Everything turned to ice. It snowed again. They were here for less than a week and the only thing I think it didn't do was be pleasant.

That's not to say that my folks haven't seen winter weather. I grew up on a remote farm in Nova Scotia and there were storms that blew so hard, it sounded like a freight train was passing overhead.

But, my folks wisely moved away from all that quite a while back, and now live in the relative tropics of Vancouver Island where driving in snow is so rare it's hardly worth mentioning. So the past week was a bit of a test for my dad, who was very appreciative of anti-lock breaks and studded tires, not to mention the wonders of autostart.

This morning, however, they will get on the airplane and fly back to their home, and my sister and I will get back to preparing for the holidays pretty much like we always do, visiting with our many friends — our Alaska adopted family.

My dad asked at one point if people were hard on those who "come from away" as it is called in Nova Scotia when your great-great grandfather wasn't born on the same square of land you still call home.

I said no — practically everyone comes from away here. But then it struck me that in much of Alaska, especially the areas the Sounder covers, that's not the case.

There are many things that separate the communities of Southcentral and Southeast Alaska from the north. But maybe one of the bigger differences is that in Northwest Alaska, family ties are deep. In the rest of Alaska, having a sister in the same town is extraordinary.

But I'd say that doesn't really have to matter much. Growing up, there were surrogate grandparents at the end of the road, and a constant group of young people who were as much like cousins as anyone I know with actual cousins.

The same holds true for Alaskans. My children, for example, have strong relationships with many people outside their bloodlines. Some of these people are as much family to them as the distant relatives they see once in a blue moon. There are people I would do just about anything for, and people who have done extraordinarily selfless acts for me.

In a way, these adoptive family members are even more precious because we choose them rather than being dealt them. We find people with whom our values mesh, and we help each other out.

This week, there is a story in the Sounder about a couple who for decades baked hundreds upon hundreds of cookies and candies for seemingly the entire community of Kotzebue. This couple "came from away" but wanted to show their appreciation for the many people who made their community work. This truly selfless act, while perhaps a little more than the average person would take on without losing their sanity, exemplifies the Alaska holiday spirit. Few of us have that much excess to give, but many of us willingly share what we have with our friends and neighbors, especially around the holidays. It's part of what makes this state so wonderful. We haven't lost the concept of what it means to be part of a community.

Today I was taking a walk in my neighborhood and I noticed a friend whose greenhouse was buried in snow. We've had some weather, like I said. It looked like a monster project, moving all that snow, but tomorrow, once this paper goes out the door, I'm going to go over and lend a hand for a half-hour and do what I can to help out. It's a little thing, but hopefully they will know that from that simple act, I am acknowledging that people like my neighbors are my family, too.

No one can replace your parents, your siblings, your cousins and aunts and uncles. And for those of you who are swimming in family this time of year, relish it.

But for those of us who are used to more often than not being apart from our flesh and blood during holidays like Christmas, take a moment to think of those people with whom you are close — family close. Gather them around you, and enjoy that version of family, too. Let them know how special they are to you, not with lavish gifts but with simple acts of kindness, support and sharing. I guarantee that the rewards you will reap will be great, and the sacrifice small.

I'd like to truly wish all of the Arctic Sounder readers a very happy holiday filled with warm moments of peace and reflection, togetherness and joy.

Merry Christmas.

 

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