Family can be hard.

You can’t choose them or change them, but I’ve learned to love them hard for a million reasons. And the older I get, the more I appreciate our differences because the one thing that’s constant is the big love we share, and the even bigger love my parents have instilled for us to have Faith; over the years, they’ve really embraced whatever that Faith and Belief looks like for each of us, as we’ve not always chosen the same path, and while that has created some momentary dissonance, in the end, great love and faith has always trumped all the idiosyncrasies….and as I try really hard to root all things in gratitude, I’m most thankful for the nimbleness of our family and the willingness to really try to understand and table judgement in the name of a bigger love.

I mean, we might share the genetic “fisherman’s nose” (sorry Jeff, you and I got that one honest from Dad and Grandpa Rocke) but sometimes the similarities can end there. We all grew up in this DIY world together on Rural Route 1 (yes, that’s a real address) but we couldn’t have turned out more differently. But that’s what makes the Rocke clan pretty awesome–we still make massive effort to gather together even though we’re as different as you could imagine.

My oldest brother is a father of 5 kiddos (can you imagine??) and the Elder of our family’s church in Minneapolis; he is the master-mind and owner of an engineering company and his daily tasks are so far over my IQ that I have to take notes on things to Google later so he won’t think I’m a complete idiot.  (As I’m writing this, I’m not even sure that it’s an engineering company…but again, over my intelligence level. It’s something important.) Being the oldest (especially of 5) comes with its own set of challenges, none that I pretend to understand, and he continues to be our leader of sorts and make time for family shenanigans even when I know that it has to come from some personal sacrifice.

My only sister is an interior design genius that left an architecture firm to go out on her own a few years ago, and is a super-mom (of 3) who literally has her hands in every possible honey pot in Bloomington, IL. You need her to bring food for 150 high school kids after the Joseph Musical? No worries. Give her 2 hours notice. Want her to run Bible School or the Vacation Bible School program? She’ll do it in her sleep while she coordinates a mission trip to a remote place with no running water. I need a Xanax and stiff drink after hearing about her day, but meanwhile, she’s already on to saving whales or planning to re-do the entire backyard without using a handyman (insert her husband here, but I’m just focusing on the core 5 here.)

My middle brother is a total unicorn. (Sorry, Brad…but I always joked your fashion style would never find you a wife…lol.) But he married young, had 4 amazing kids and started his own Ag company before being an entrepreneur was even a thing. Like my eldest brother, if you ask him about his business, it’s so complicated I feel like I need a translator just to have appropriate responses. I do care, but it’s so over my head that I resort back to that big love concept and just embrace that he’s happy and try not to have a brain implosion when I try to understand better. He’s the calm, even voice of us kids, as I don’t know that I’ve ever heard him get loud or irrational like the rest of us so easily do. (And his little bum was just too cute not to share here.)

And my littlest bro…he’s the family trail blazer…He’s always been the strong willed one who knew what he wanted before anyone else could even hope to start tracking; we spent the most time together “on the homestead” before the West called him for ranching and all the wild things that entails, but he’s the hardest lover…we used to fight and act crazy, but I always knew he had my back and would love me over the disagreement. He’s the awesome dad of 3 kids…and he’s a grandpa..which is amazing and hilarious at the same time, considering he’s the youngest of us that had kids. In a lot of ways, he’s been my person as we’ve gotten older, which is pretty wild if you see us together, as he’s usually trying to start a farting contest and I’m worried if I picked the right nail color.

I bring up the rear, as the perfect child, of course. Just kidding. Nicholas (my hubs) and I wore matching “Black Sheep” t-shirts to our family bash, and while I think I’m pretty well behaved, it is kind of true…I left for Atlanta when I was 21, met and got engaged to Nicholas in 3 weeks, and later decided we didn’t want to have any children.  We live in California now, and while my life choices haven’t taken the traditional or expected route, my family has embraced our path and only care that we are happy and have some version of spirituality.

All joking aside…we’re an interesting bunch and we love each other in spite of any difference in life choices, and while I’m clearly biased, I think my parents raised a pretty awesome clan.

My parents have been married for 50 years. Seriously?! Can you imagine being married to anyone that long and still look at each other fondly? Well, they do…and my dad shared a bit of their story this week that none of us had heard.

My mom was pretty hard-headed (shocker) and had no plans to every marry. Now that’s something we ironically have/had in common. She was in school at Illinois State to be a teacher, which was somewhat unusual in her time and situation, as women were typically not college bound, and instead were more apt to take a church marriage and settle in to raise children. Somehow, my mom was ahead of her time and managed to not only do both, but do so with 5 hooligans on a farm with little money and the need and/or desire to grow and raise our food, sew our clothes and manage family camping trips every summer.

And my dad was the guy who openly said, “I’ll love her enough for the both of us.” Thankfully, while their engagement began as my mom saying yes because she believed it was God’s plan more than anything, she wound up loving him completely (duh–to know him is to love him) and 50 years later, they’re a love story that we could only hope to replicate. It’s the Faith-based, all encompassing love that transcends all else, and this Rocke, motley crew was and still is fortunate enough to see in action.

I’ve always joked about my parents’ frugality (and I’m a self-proclaimed exaggerator, so sometimes Nicholas doesn’t believe me and I have to fact check to be sure I had the core stories straight.) True story–mom made most of our clothes, matching whenever she could, cut our very uneven mullets (and sometimes permed them) and we all bathed in the same 2 inches of cistern (rain) water.  There was no such thing as expired food (because if it did come from a store and not from the garden) it was never going to waste…insert Mystery Meat Mondays and solutions for spoiled milk. I’ll spare you too many details here.

Their frugality in our childhood and understanding that there are more important things than store bought Levis and Guess sweatshirts were the reason that they could fund a beach trip like we had this week. Their generosity and constant need to make sure we all stay connected is one of the many things that I’m thankful for, as it’s too easy to grow older and grow apart.

We gathered in Hatteras, NC this last week to celebrate them (and my mom’s 70th, though she looks 50) and it was an awesome time to connect, laugh, and share the many stories of childhood with our spouses and kids.

Mom prepped a slideshow of old photos, and I took the liberty of sharing some goods here–hilarious. I know that only folks that know us or grew up in a similar way might be amused, but I wanted to share a taste of our Rocke childhood on RR1 and all the love that grew with us.

So because I like to cheers all things lovely in this world, here’s to you, mom and dad, the beautiful story that you’re still living, and all the goodness you’ve planted in the Rocke kids. I speak for all of us when I say that we love you more than we’ll ever be able to articulate in mere words, and we’re so thankful for your love, your faith, and you’re incredible influence in the adults we’ve all become.

PS–I still claim the kids’ table.