Having lived away from our home bases for all but 4 of our 25 years together, we’ve become experts at lightning strike visits.  Packing as many loud gatherings, quiet washing-the-dishes-together chats, and helping-move-furniture-chores into a short visit as possible. Drinking full (or rather, chugging quickly) from the cup of family love to sustain the next absence.

In this new, luxuriously slower and expansive edition of our life, we’ve stretched it out some.  The last three weeks have been focussed on family.  Two whole nights with my big brother in Toronto, then a full nine days in Chicago with nothing planned but family time, sadly interrupted by COVID.  I got to spend exactly one magical evening with my beautiful niblings (gender-neutral term in lieu of nephews and nieces, akin to “siblings”) and their amazing parents.  Completely missed the grandparents and other brother-in-law, except peeking through a frustratingly small and one-way Zoom keyhole into family dinners and gift exchanges.  Sat outside shivering on the patio as my children tossed presents to me (including bright pink gloves gifted from Barbie!) through the sliding glass door on Christmas morning.

The first time I took a business trip to Africa, Sarah took the boys to Chicago at the same time.  After our tearful goodbye’s at check-in, I got to my gate, only to discover that the international departure gates were separated from domestic just by a glass wall.  I could see my little boys but not hear or touch them.  Since then, that’s been my definition of hell.  This Christmas, hearing my family laughing and cooking and bickering and loving being together downstairs was agonizing, and briefly watching the larger family gathering on my phone was almost more separating than uniting.  But it felt good knowing that they all had a long cool sip of family punch.

Ten healthy days in Surrey BC was enough to relax into some family rhythm.  Even the Juliusson pub crawl to celebrate Zekiah and Angie reaching legal drinking age was somewhat relaxing, as the rest of us have aged past bar brawls and drunken karaoke (though we did some damage to Garth Brooks and The BeeGees).  Three nights in a condo at Mt. Washington provided the usual warm glow of shared meals and games and harrowing exaggerations of ski exploits.  Add in a 90th birthday party, meals with the neighbours, photo shoots and more furniture rearranging, and it felt like a healthy slice of the full pie of ritual and familiarity that is Family.

When I was a young righteous international development worker/missionary, I heeded Jesus’ call to “anyone who leaves his home behind and chooses me over children, parents, family, and possessions…”  But older mellower Rick values family, extended community, lasting connection. Traveling for several years might seem like the opposite, but we view this time as a unique opportunity to spend meaningful time with people we love, rekindle and strengthen connections, and weave our widely-spread world a little closer together.