All hail the ...Patriarch?


Last Easter, in front of my cousins, and my extended family, I was called on to begin the traditional prayer. This is an honor mostly reserved for an elder. In attendance were several of my cousins who are older than me, as well as my immediate family, which included my father, who has since passed.
This was an honor for me, and the symbolism did not go unnoticed. My extended family is large. My father had four siblings, all of whom had multiple children. We all get along, but like most big families, have broken into what could best be described as clans.
This may sound somewhat archaic, or outdated, but it is still the best way to describe the family unit that we have. My cousins have their immediate families, which include children, wives and grandchildren. They now all gather amongst themselves for holidays, as it had gotten too big for any one person to host everyone, because we number around one hundred, give or take.
When I was called on to initiate the prayer it was an acknowledgement from one clan to another that there was going to be a power shift. It was well known that my father was dying, and that as the oldest son, I would be the elder of my clan. There was nothing especially Shakespearian about this power shift, although I believe that I did see my sister conspiring out of the corner of my eye (even her name, Renae, is closely related to Lear’s daughter, Regan!). I still think she’s up to something, but that suspicion aside, there is not much for a patriarch to do. I probably will not be called to a war council, and since we are not inordinately wealthy, there is no real trust to manage, nor a board to sit on. So what does a patriarch in my situation do?
There is no real answer to this question because it is not really a formal title. It may be a long time before the title is widely held by the family at large, and even longer for there to be concrete assignments. My father would step in and contact one of us, his children, when he thought we needed guidance. On one occasion he made me listen to him while he told me not to buy my house. I remember the phrase he kept repeating, “Do me this one thing”, as if he were asking for a “sit-down” with a rival crime family. Needless to say, there was nothing very dramatic about our talk but he thought it was his duty to have a conversation with me before I made a big decision. And this is the heart of the matter. A patriarch is a role of duty and symbolism. It carries no weight, but like an ambassador, is a recognized role.
It is an honor. As a product of an immigrant family, the fact that we have survived and flourished is significant. It is what our ancestors fought for and it is a testament to their hard work that we are here. To recognize the patriarch is to recognize the family.
So can I put this on my resume? Of course not. Does my family treat me differently? Not on a day to day basis but there are times when the role is apparent. There have been times when my involvement in family matters have been requested, when in the past they may not have been.
Being a part of a family goes beyond my immediate family, and I want my sons to see that. I want them to know that we are the product of something bigger than us. They don’t need to carry that message every day, but there will be times when they need to realize it. They may not be the patriarch, but they will need to recognize the ones that are, whether it be their father, their cousins, their uncles, or someday, maybe even their children.
And in the meantime I’m going to keep an eye on my sister, who may or may not be conspiring at this very minute to rally her minions against me. So when I am called upon to cut the pita on New Year’s Day, one of the few acknowledged duties of the patriarch, I will be extra careful when she hands me the knife.