Dinner with My Broken Past

Dinner with My Broken Past

Last week I discovered that a second cousin, the daughter of one of my favorite cousins, had moved to Nashville about nine months ago. So, my mother and I invited her to dinner.

She arrived at the door just minutes before the Italian feast was about to be served. My mom is a stickler about time. If you say dinner is at 6:30, she means the dinner will be on the table at 6:30—not appetizers, not a glass of wine first—DINNER. She’s diabetic and 80, and everything is about getting that dinner down her throat before 5 pm, bless her heart.

Nonetheless, we waited tonight till 6:30 for our honored guest. Her smile lit up the room when she came in. It was as if she had brought in to the house my entire heritage from my father’s side of the family with her, in a good way. My family had let go of that side of the family soon after my father had passed away because of how poorly that side of the family treated us at my father’s funeral. We just figured they would never understand us and our decisions about our father.

Our circumstance was one where my father was one person when he was with his family and a completely different person when he was with us, including being with his ex-wife, my mother, whom he professed to love until he died, but would never admit to any of them.

Anyway, between the fragrant Italian food, the beautiful Pinot Noir, and my cousin’s face reflecting every Sebastian I knew, it was as if I sat down to dinner with everyone I had left twelve years ago. She was delightful and expressive and very much of the ilk that I have embraced both spiritually and mentally over the years. I was happy to see and hear her stories of how she had come to her truths. We sat like old friends for what felt like hours talking about life until she had to go feed her dogs.

After she left I felt something shift inside. I had spent a lot of time putting up walls around my heart so that they wouldn’t be broken concerning my father’s family. I’d forgotten a new generation existed from the old, and that even the older family tree had grown as well. The dinner ended up being not just a introduction to a new family member, but a reconnection to family in general.

I remember one thing my father said to me before he died. He told me that it was my turn to take care of my sisters and the family. It was as if he was passing the Sebastian family mantle down to me. I didn’t quite understand why it was me. I was never his favorite. In fact, I have an older brother and three older sisters. Why does the second youngest son get the mantle and the responsibility of such a large undertaking? It was only after he died that I understood why he chose me.

All of my sisters respected me and listened to my advice, as did my mother. So, he understood that they would come to me, one by one, needing my help now and again. This happened time and time again over the years. When it happens, I always ask my father for advice, as I feel he has become one of my angels in the spirit realm, something else, I never would have expected.

Life is full of unexpected gifts if you look for them. Life can be filled with unlocked treasures as well. Don’t be afraid to search for them, as I did that one lonely night on Facebook, as I went back through about 50 pages of people to find the few relatives I felt like I really would want to see and talk to again after twelve years.

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Bo Sebastian is a Hypnotherapist and Life & Health Coach, available for private sessions to QUIT SMOKING, Lose Weight, New Lap-Band Hypnosis for Weight Loss, CHANGE YOUR MIND, CHANGE YOUR LIFE! at 615-400-2334 or www.bosebastian.com.

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