Families are like a mobile — the kind that are hung from the ceiling with matching parts delicately balanced, moving together on whatever on air currents come into play. If you bump one part of the mobile, all parts are affected.

My family started off the summer with a wedding. A beautiful and simple celebration for two people with a whole future stretched out before them. We danced, we laughed, we got mushy. 

A mere six weeks later, at the peak of summer, my family was rocked by the news that my brother’s son, my big beautiful, swaggerin’, braggin’, lust-for-life nephew died of a massive coronary. 

If a bump to a mobile throws it into motion, snip one piece off and the balance collapses. We were all just so hurt. We gathered again for a family-only funeral, followed a few weeks later for a big bashing all-who-loved-him celebration of a short life well lived. It was standing room only. Which kinda suits him — he would have loved knowing he’d had the biggest and the best send-off. He was a lovely man who could sometimes irritate beyond belief and then turn around and offer support where needed and step up to the plate any time for anybody.

These events would be enough to rattle any family mobile, but in the midst of all this there was another story unfolding. A little background is necessary.

In 1963 my eldest sister was 19 years old and having the time of her life at university. Yup, it’s all fun and games until a girl gets pregnant. She gave that baby boy up for adoption. 

Wait, there’s more. She became pregnant a second time by the same man. This time the baby was a girl, also given up for adoption.

Hold your surprise (or judgement) for a moment. This speaks more to the nature of a toxic relationship than an advertisement for birth control.

The poison that exists in such relationships is unfortunately balanced by an elixir to keep everything going. In this case the antidote was charisma, the kind of charisma that is entertaining, fun to be around, sucks people in, and is just manipulative enough to convince someone who thinks they are in love that the upside makes the downside worthwhile. If you haven’t been in this situation yourself, you are likely close to someone who has. It’s not an uncommon phenomenon.

And so this couple continued together into marriage and two more children were born. You follow? Four full blooded siblings; two adopted away, two raised by my sister, who, not surprisingly, chose to become a single parent.

There used to be rules and red tape around birth parents and children finding each other. My sister had opened whatever doors she could to enable either child to find her should they choose to do so. The second baby, the girl, met my sister approximately 25 years ago. All went well; new relationships began… and that left the remaining first born still ‘out there’.

This summer, in between the wedding and the funeral we were all surprised, gladdened, thrilled, and overjoyed for my sister to have this man seek her (us) out. It was like the proverbial other shoe dropping. After decades of wondering and questioning, the loop was finally closed.

It’s been such an emotional spectrum. Nothing brings out the reminder of what family means like a few emotionally charged bumps to the constellation.

We are always going to hurt when we think of my nephew who died. The counterbalance to that kind of hurt is there’s always joy to be found somewhere. Seek it out when you are ready even though it may be bittersweet. As much as we are hurting for the wife and son left behind, we’re rooting for them too. 

Life goes on. My family used to enjoy a longstanding tradition of gathering for Thanksgiving at a country cottage. The tradition was dropped after the original cottage owner died several years ago of old age and potent martinis. This year we are planning a return to the ‘HellFest’. (An affectionate nickname referring to the unstructured nature of our fall gatherings.) My ‘new’ nephew will be there to meet the parts of the clan he hasn’t yet encountered. First, second and third cousins will be there. It will be a grand family gathering. We will have fun and laughter, balanced with tears and likely more mushiness.

The family mobile may have been battered, but it’s still intact.

Keep your joy.

Anne Milne is an every Sunday blogger, unless it’s a holiday weekend. Or summertime. Facebook or email.