The Shape of Family

by Shilpi Somaya Gowda

“Indian” represented the most meaningful part of her—the culture and history she felt running through her blood; the language, food and music that made her feel at home. It was an inextricable, essential part of her; not just what she had been born with, but what she embraced. “American” represented the choices she’d made as an adult—the man she’d chosen to marry; the children she’d borne, Prem, with his love of baseball, and Karina with her stubborn independent streak. This was the place where she’d chosen to make a life, standing up and taking the oath of citizenship with tears in her eyes in a government building over a decade ago.

Is it human nature to put people in boxes (What are you?) or is it our nature to try to figure things out? I can remember being in grade school and it was common for the teacher to ask "what are you" with a raising of hands and we were all white. I'm 1/2 German and 1/2 Polish or I am 1/4 Norwegian and 3/4 Swedish and so on. At that time, most people in my class were no more than four different nationalities and all of the same race but as time goes on and we all become more and more mixed, I hope that it is no longer something that people feel a need to figure out.

Would she still feel as American, Jaya wondered, if she were to extricate herself from that fabric, to pick up and move back to India or somewhere else? Would it simply travel with her like the habits she’d acquired from the places she’d lived, like eating dates after dinner in Kuwait? Or would America be eternally in her blood like India was?

Good question!

Jaya now felt a deep ache for her brother and her parents, who all lived so far away. Some part of her imagined moving closer to them, feeling the urge to cling to the family she had left. Her mother and Dev offered the unspoken familiarity of her childhood, reminding Jaya of who she was at her core, before she’d formed this new life of hers, which now seemed to be splintering.

As he pulled into the driveway that night, Keith felt more hopeful than he’d been since Prem’s death. He was back to work, where he felt competent again. He could return to normal. That’s what he wanted.

Everyone deals with grief in their own way. As the breadwinner, this probably wasn't a bad thing although it came off as his not caring.

He didn’t see much point in forcing her to continue seeing the counselor when she seemed to be doing fine on her own. Karina had always been tough. When she’d slammed her finger in the car door at the age of six, she wailed loudly, but by the time he’d run back outside with an ice pack, her tears had dried and she was ready to go to gymnastics class. Some kids were just built strong like that; they could withstand more than others.

But can they, though? Or is this just something we tell ourselves?

Karina put down her backpack and dug inside the front pocket for Prem’s small Swiss Army knife. She turned it over in her hand, noting its smooth, unscratched surface. She pulled out the large blade and pressed it gently into her finger pad. Then in a single, swift motion, she drew back her arm and flung the knife into the broken cavern.

An impulsive move that I thought "you will regret having done that later!" It makes sense, though. On the one hand, it was a symbol of her brother yet having it in her possession, she created physical wounds to dull the emotional wounds that she continue to break open each time she thought of him.

Keith emerged from the shower to see Courtney still asleep in his bed, tangled in the steel-gray sheets with her long hair spread out across the pillow. He glanced at the time and realized he was going to have to get her up and out. He pressed a button on the remote control to raise the window shades and another to tune the bathroom TV to Bloomberg, though markets were closed today. Courtney didn’t stir. Ah, to be in your twenties and sleep like that.

Keith dating all of these young women not much older than his daughter disgusted me. I have a daughter the age of these young women and she talks about the 40 year old men who are attracted to her and it grosses her out. I do think it is possible for people bigger age disparities to truly find love with one another. I just think this scenario is so cliche and often leaves the woman in a vulnerable situation.

Who else could she tell about her renewed sorrow? The only thing more unbearable than suffering alone was the idea of having to share it with one of her parents, where it would multiply.

This totally makes sense! We don't want to bring other people down but particularly those most vulnerable to feeling bad about what we share.

When I was alive, I liked being a pair with Kiki during our after-school time. I liked walking back from school and hanging around home with her, even if we were doing different things. That’s the best part of being a pair, isn’t it? Just being with someone and feeling better that way, even if you’re not doing anything together or speaking. Being part of a silent pair can feel really, really good.

it’s in the mixing that greatness happens. Rock ’n’ roll came from the confluence of R & B and country music. Hybrid tomatoes, like these”—he paused to snap a sucker from the tomato vine—“are the most delicious. And children of two races combine the best features of each. Always the most beautiful.”

Growing up in the Midwest, my entire vegetable universe was potatoes, corn, carrots and peas.” He laughed at Karina’s involuntary facial expression. “Yeah, and half the time, those were out of a can.

ha - I feel that!

“Did you know 70 percent of freshwater use is for agriculture?” Karina said. Her mind traveled back to the seminar that had brought her and James together, the hours they spent in the library poring over journal articles on drought, water delivery systems, desalinization plants. “And food production will need to grow by over 60 percent over the next twenty years, just to keep up with population growth?”

I learned some things in this book. Cutting down lemon trees sounded terrible but then thinking about how much water they consume got me thinking.

Mom once worked as a policy analyst, evaluating research studies and analyzing data; she seemed almost gullible now. It still struck a nerve, the feeling that her mom was indifferent to her, as if her parental concern was a finite resource that had been fully drained by Prem.

Grown-ups believe there’s a big difference between magic and the real world, but I’m not so sure. In the comics, the villain and the superhero are always clear, but in real life, it’s harder to tell. If you see yourself as the hero of your own story all the time, like Dad, sometimes you’re not even sure what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. It may seem impossible for the hero to act like a villain, but I’ve seen it happen more than you’d think.

oooo - good one.

“Everything you want is on the other side of fear,

Jaya had thought it was easier to be far from both their families, free to establish their own rituals and norms, but perhaps the fabric of their life was weaker for it, leaving them untethered when adversity struck.

Interesting!

“Pain is always there to serve a purpose,” Jaya says, “to teach us something, whether it’s to not reach into a hot oven or to not fall in love with the wrong person.” Karina looks up at her with startled eyes, but of course there’s love involved here. What else could cause such pain? “And once we’ve learned what we’re meant to learn,” Jaya continues, “we are better than before. The wounds will heal.” She lightly touches Karina’s arm. “And that pain inside will help you grow.”

Jaya has been relearning what it is to be a parent this past year. When her children were younger, it was about the basic tasks: feeding them, clothing them, ensuring they had a good education and dental checkups. Keeping them safe from harm.

ugh yes - sometimes we are just so busy trying to get the basics done and we may lose sight of the big picture. See next comment.

She did not teach her daughter how to develop confidence, rather than insecurity, in what makes her unique. Show her how to fortify her heart against life’s inevitable disappointments and betrayals. Help her cultivate an instinct for people.

together, they have now closed the chapter of their family crisis that began with the loss of one child and ends with the healing of another.

awww

Karina has spent many hours in the past year in therapy, trying to understand what truly happened at the Sanctuary, how she was manipulated into following Micah and his destructive authority. The therapist helped her recognize that the techniques he used on her—love bombing, sensory deprivation, social isolation, breaking her down and building her back up—were all well-known tactics in such groups.

The hardest part is knowing that I changed the shape of my family.

Love when I get to the origin of the title!