Matthew 6:21 — Blog — Casey and the Sunshine

For the past couple of Sundays I have been spending after-church fellowship time chatting with my favorite 10-year-old, Sophia, about Harry Potter. Sophia has seen the first four (I think?) Harry Potter films, and is just now old enough (according to her Mom) to start reading the books. As of last week, she's about halfway through book two, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

This, alone, causes me great joy.

When the books first came out in the US, I was 11. So was Harry. (My life is so perfect sometimes.) Since I read book one way back in 5th grade, I have had this deep, visceral connection to these stories. The final film hits theaters in July of this year. Every year since 1999 (yikes bikes) there has been a book on its way to my hands each summer or a film on its way to theaters each fall. This July marks the end of an era. My generation (I'd say those between 20 and 30 years old, these days) were the original target market, and are now the most intense superfans of the series.

It is heartwarming, then, to encounter Sophia, who is just now embarking on what has been the greatest literary joy of my life, and what I hopehopehopehopehope will be hers.

There is a specific point to this post, other than just general Harry Potter fandom. Last week, Sophia asked me what I thought the moral of Harry Potter was. I smiled, and started to answer, but she stopped me. She said, "I think the moral of Harry Potter is that, even when no one believes in you, you should believe in yourself." I congratulated her on getting that out of it, because that's exactly right. And she even continued, saying, "Also, it's that your friends and your family are the most important ever. And that good guys always win over bad guys." I agreed. I started to say something about loyalty and courage and she added, "Except I don't really know about Snape. He seems like maybe a good guy, maybe a bad guy."

I can hardly describe my elation. To be in the midst of the epic journey that is the life of Harry, Ron, and Hermione is a state to which I wish I could return. Certainly I reread the books with regularity and fall straight back into being fully engrossed in their world. But sometimes I wish I was still learning. Sometimes I wish I was still holding my breath until everyone made it out of a situation alive. Or didn't.

There are many things that make me anxious about future generations. But if there are even just a few more Sophias out there, I think it's going to be all right.

Every year for the fourth of July, we have a big family party in Newport Beach, because July 5th is my grandmother's birthday. This year, she turned 85, so we had a HUGE party with all of her extended family from all over the country. For the first time in at least 10 years, all four of the living Luke siblings, along with all of their children, and their children, and even their children (!!) were in the same place for an afternoon. In total, there were 81 of us in attendance -- ranging from 2 years old (maybe it's more impressive to include 8-months-pregnant Karrie) to 90 years old. Isn't that incredible?

Some, if not most, of the people in attendance hadn't seen each other in years, if we'd met ever. And yet we were family! We were wearing name tags color coded as to which of the Luke siblings -- Uncle Don, Uncle Dick, Aunt Alice, the late Uncle Bob, or Grammy Marian -- we belonged to. It was pretty hilarious, and though there was no game or contest, Team Marian definitely won. We're the best. We'd introduce or re-introduce ourselves with our family trees -- I'm Casey, Marian's granddaughter; Karin is my mom." Or "I'm Cory, Karrie's husband; Marian's daughter, Randa, is her mom." Or "I'm Suzanne, Mark's wife. Mark is Marian's nephew on Bill's side." It was complicated but awesome. That's why we always just say "I'm a cousin!" because it would be crazy to memorize all the lineages. My mom can recite the whole family tree from top to bottom, both sides. Though I suppose I can do the same of my first cousins with ease. Though, I have 14 and she's got 30something, hahaha.

The point of this, other than to explain my extended family tree, is to explain why I am the way I am. My family is big and crazy and loud...but perfect. I can't even imagine Christmas without the 60 Turpins. I definitely can't even imagine being somewhere with all the Turpins and all the Lukes! 150 of us! Oh my that would just be the best party of all time.

It reminds me of my dear friends like Fletcher and Sam, who have tiny families. I'm sure that their families are bursting with love just as any other family is...but to have only a handful of cousins, to not know their cousins, to not see their families with any sort of regularity. I remember telling Sam about going to Newport for Mother's Day and watching Karrie's ultrasound video. He seemed incredulous that my extended family took part in activities like this. He was amazed that we saw each other so often and knew what was going on in each other's lives. That we were facebook friends, that we called each other...it seems unbelievable to me that you could do anything but! My family just has this...thing about connectedness.

Which brings about the hard part about reflecting on the insanity of this family: reflecting on how quickly it won't be this way. "The Elder Lukes" (as my aunts kept calling the four of them) are 79, 85, 88, and 90. There aren't going to be many more of these parties that include the four of them. Both my dad's parents have died, as have my uncle Gary's and my uncle Bruce's. So, on my mom's side, that leaves just my mom's parents. I have never met the parents of any of the married-ins on my dad's side -- the Kloehns are a completely different story when it comes to family.

But it seems weird that there will be no grandparents, no great aunts and uncles in a few years. It seems weirder that, for my mom and my aunts and uncles of her generation, that there will soon be no parents, no aunts and uncles. It seems many many years away for me before I will be losing those aunts and uncles whom I cherish.

And while I hope my next statement doesn't keep you from taking seriously my previous sentiments, this goes hand in hand with Harry Potter. I just finished the 7th book (I reread all 7 in the last couple weeks) and all I can think about is the value of family and of friends -- of holding tight to those you love, and to the memories of those you have loved and lost. I really just can't express my emotions very well on this, because I'm torn between devastation at the mere thought of the loss of my closest loved ones, and just wanting to celebrate the life we have had and the time we'll spend in the future. Sure, some day I'll show up to a family gathering and my favorite uncle Bruce won't be there anymore. Will an event feel complete without the bookends of a hug hello and goodbye from him? I only hope that my children will be able to feel the same warmth I feel from him before that happens. And similarly, one day my aunt Jackie won't be there with a smile and a piercing laugh and a joke about how we have to fight or else be overtaken by the conservative olds in the family. And someday I suppose I'll be the aunt that a niece or nephew thinks fondly of. I suppose it's the circle of life, right?

It all comes back to Matthew 6:21 -- where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. My treasure is in my family, and my heart is forever connected to all of theirs at once.