It's a North-South thing

                                    

Recently, an in-law from Arizona, a relative newcomer to the family, commented on the behavior of another in-law, who I've known for some time:

"Between you and me, I find it very odd that one of her family members is always living with them." The person to whom she was referring had just had her brother move out after several years, and now her mother was there, sharing space with the married couple and their two young children. I know that the rental income was convenient in the first case, and baby-sitting services in the second case have been invaluable for two full-time working parents, especially in these times of uncertain school safety.

I have lived in the South longer than I ever lived in the North. I married a Southerner. So it's probably no huge surprise that I "get" this aspect of Southern life: Family is Forever. Families often share their homes, and surprisingly often, they create "compounds," in which an entire block of homes, owned by someone usually referred to as Big Daddy, is occupied by grown kids and their families. For the younger generations, this counts as "independence."

Not up north! I'm a native New Yorker, and it was clear to me, from an early age, that being a grownup meant getting away from one's parents. Not just moving out, but moving far, far away from Mom and Dad. Moving all the way across the country and keeping in touch via phone or Internet, visiting now and then for holidays, which serves as a great reminder of why you moved out in the first place. Erma Bombeck wrote a book called "Family: The Ties that Bind (and Gag)." Erma was widely regarded as "Midwestern," but she came from southwest Ohio (near Kentucky) and lived there most of her life. I don't think she lived with her parents, but it looks like she stayed pretty close by.

Not all, but most of the Northerners I've known have followed the general rule. They have moved far from home, sometimes right out of school, sometimes in the course of middle-adulthood. The most common scenario for a Southerner to move far from home is by joining the military. This discussion doesn't encompass the kinds of living environments people choose. Northerners aren't necessarily more sophisticated than other types of people (though they quite often think they are). Many of my classmates expressed distaste for large cities. They moved to quiet suburbs...hundreds of miles from where they grew up.

But Southerners are more likely to stay put. They grow roots. That's why street, town, and city names match the names of the people who live there. You'll hear someone say "Yes, my great- great- great-grandpa settled here right after the war." And no one thinks twice -- that's the Civil War, though now and then, it's the Revolution.

My dad wasn't close to his Brooklyn family of origin. My mom (from upstate NY) was on speaking terms with her family, but contacts were always special-occasion visits, once or twice a year. My son's father grew up in Queens and now lives in one of the Maritime provinces of Canada. His brother moved out to Colorado at his first opportunity and has never looked back, except for those rare visits. Their mom retired and spent a couple of decades in a "no-kids" community in Florida.

My late husband was quite happy to be 150 miles or more from any of his relatives, though we visited every few years or so. However: two sisters, a brother, and a nephew live very close to one another, and the two sisters share a house. Not a bad situation, since circumstances dictate that they drive each other back and forth to local hospitals and doctors' offices. Same holds true for a friend of mine, age 67, who's had two strokes and lives with her much healthier 96-year-old mother.  Even under similar circumstances, Northerners will do it differently. When group living is called for, it will be friends fulfilling the role of roommates or companions. Family members are a last resort. 

Back in the 1980s when my son's father and I moved to the South, many of our friends followed us. Each Thanksgiving we had what we called an Orphans' dinner -- now more often called Friendsgiving. 

As we gathered 'round the overloaded table, I suspect we were all giving silent thanks that our families of origin were 850 miles away.