Family Matters

Last weekend was an eventful one at our house. I was on my way to a men’s breakfast at Holladay Church of Christ Saturday morning when my phone rang. It was my wife’s number, but when I answered, it was our daughter on the line.

Our three-year-old son Ben and Lena had been sitting in bed watching TV when I left. At some point, Ben had climbed over her and managed to land just right on her knee — or just wrong, depending on how you look at it. Her kneecap popped out of place. She’s had trouble with it before, but it had always gone right back in. This time was different. This time, it didn’t.

I rushed back home and found Lena right where I’d left her, but clearly in a lot more pain. Not long after, her mother, Debbie, showed up, followed shortly by her sister-in-law, Heather. Heather brought two very helpful things with her: first, she’s a nurse practitioner, which is a great blessing in times like these. Second, she came with Eliza Mae — our sweet three-year-old niece, who quickly became a distraction and playmate for our little ones.

After evaluating the situation, the ladies decided a trip to the ER was necessary. Fortunately, our family van has “stow-and-go” seats that collapse into the floorboards — perfect for getting an injured leg into position without too much struggle. As we began loading up, Lena’s brother Bryan arrived to help. Debbie followed us to the ER in Camden while Bryan and Heather stayed behind with the kids.

After x-rays and exams, we returned home with a knee immobilizer, some crutches, and a good dose of pain medicine. Lena was right back in the bed where the whole ordeal had started.

Now, I don’t share all this to embarrass my wife — she’s been a trooper through it all. I share it because it reminded me, once again, of just how precious it is to have family nearby. Not everyone has that luxury. Without the support of our close-knit family, this small household emergency would’ve been a major logistical crisis. Instead, thanks to everyone’s help, it was manageable.

Debbie came by again Sunday morning to check in and help with dishes. I was able to work from home on Monday, and because we live near our parents, the kids could go to the grandparents’ house for a while so I could stay close to Lena. My own mom, Lisa, came straight to our house from out of town just in time to take our oldest, Emmalyn, to a much-anticipated piano exam.

I’ve known since I was young that I wanted to stay close to home. Growing up, many of my classmates couldn’t wait to get out — to move to a bigger town or chase some far-off dream. And many of them have. Some people don’t really have a choice; jobs and marriage pull them far from where they started. Sometimes, even if you’d prefer to stay close, love and life draw you in another direction.

But I’ve been blessed. I married a wonderful woman from my hometown. Even when we lived in South Fulton — just over an hour away — we weren’t truly far from home. And since 2015, we’ve lived back in Camden, raising our family in the same town we both grew up in.

In today’s culture, it’s almost expected that you leave your hometown to “make something of yourself.” And for those chasing very specific career ambitions, that might be necessary. But if I can speak gently and honestly — I think many people are trading away something far more valuable than they realize.

When you live far from your family, you may gain a title or a paycheck, but you often lose something more lasting: the day-to-day support, the shared memories, the ordinary acts of love that only happen when you’re close enough to show up. You miss the chance to be there for one another, not just in emergencies, but in the regular rhythms of life.

Of course, proximity doesn’t guarantee closeness. Some families live in the same town but are still distant in all the ways that matter. But when the love is strong and the bonds are real, being nearby allows those bonds to grow deeper — not just for one generation, but for the next.

That’s what I’ve found. And I don’t take it for granted.

Family matters. It matters more than status, more than salary, and more than any zip code on the map. I’m thankful every day for the family I was born into — and the one I married into. Both have made my life immeasurably richer, not with money, but with meaning.

And when I think about what kind of life I want for my children — it looks a lot like the one I’m living right now.