THANKFUL FRIDAY
Cindy Maddera
If you have not ever watched the series Big Love, I’m sorry. There are major spoilers ahead. In the series finale, Bill the head of the family is no longer with us. What is left behind is his three wives and nine children. They are still living in their three separated houses. Those houses are right next to each other, looking like all the other houses in the neighborhood from the front, but with one giant communal backyard in the back. This is how they lived through out the series. The thing that is different in the finale is not just the missing father head, but how these women have come together to make this family work in a way where everyone feels supported in their choices for their own lives. In fact, the family unit works better and more harmoniously now than when Bill was around.
I was riveted with the concept of this show. Chris and I watched every episode, having long discussions about the events from each episode, breaking down scenes. The show ran for five seasons and usually when one gets invested in a TV show, there is a little bit of sadness to see it end. I wasn’t not sad to see the end of Big Love, but that final episode was the perfect way to wrap up a show of complicated relationships. The final scene of the family all coming together, making time out of the lives they have built for themselves (and thriving in) to sit together for dinner has never left my brain.
I want a house with a crowded table
And a place by the fire for everyone
Let us take on the world while we're young and able
And bring us back together when the day is done- Crowded Table, The Highwomen
On Monday evening, Robin and Summer came to my house where I fixed a pot of stewed tomatoes and black-eyed peas with collard greens and cornbread. It was a meal of comfort and as we sat slurping spoonfuls of black-eyed peas, I once again thought of that final episode of Big Love. I even talked about it with Robin and Summer. I said “This is what I want.” Tuesday evening was my last evening to spend with them. This time they made me dinner and we sat at the table in the Airbnb, enjoying our meal together. There is comfort in sitting around a table at the end of a crazy work day and breaking bread with your chosen family.
I have said this before. I have talked of my dream community of friends with one giant backyard and evening meals shared at a great big table. I imagine the table filled with chatter and busy with passing around serving dishes of steaming nourishment. Laugher is always involved. Demanded even. The care of the community is not the sole responsibility of one, but the responsibility of all of us. Community is not defined by proximity. Amani sent out a call for stories of goodness to pull her out of a dark funk early in the week. It did not take long for her little post to fill up with comments of goodness. Not surprising. She has a collected a large number of good humans. Many of us have a similar collection and this is our community.
Sometimes, I scroll through the list of people Facebook thinks I know and who I should send out friend requests to. I am always so intrigued by the connections between the people in this list and my current Facebook friends. I am even more intrigued by the mutual friend situations that happen in Facebook, how these friendships overlap. My community of good humans overlaps with Amani’s community because my community includes her and when I share my own stories of goodness those people in Amani’s community see’s it too. In caring for one single person in my chosen community, I end up caring and supporting an entirely different community than my own.
I still want my imaginary community of houses with a shared backyard, with a fire pit we gather around in the evenings. I want a great big table where we sit together for our evening meals. I want all of that, but I don’t need it. I don’t need it because I already have a beautiful community and we all may be spread out across the country, but we still care and support one another.
Because this is how communities work.
