Hatches, Matches, and Despaches

A friend with who I liked to think
I did not censor myself with
asked me about how I connected
with family. She stumped me,
left politely floundering for words
when I tried to compose a reply.

She is part of a close extended family
for whom, when the women folk met
on their own terms, they could talk over
each other so agreeably they were blind
to how rare such ease is,and even blinder
to how some families struggle with the language.

Weeeks later, and pondering on my own,
the reply that was honest and tactful
that I should have shared with her
finally came to me:.My family saw me
the way that the Church of England
saw converts to it, the church engaged most
when there were big changes were afoot:
hatches/baptisms, matches/weddings
and despaches/funerals, where if before
the support had been poor their departure 
could be a lukewam/threadbare affair.
Confirrmations are an added bonus.

In between the great events of life,
most of which I was ill prepared for,
my family had.little to say for themselves
or to each other. They now get their cards
at birthdays and at Christmas, they did not always.

They send their cards to me,
I find it hard to be sentimental
amid such threadbare language.