The Heart of the Family
Every family has a heart, and while it isn’t a literal organ—like the one the beats inside us—this heart is an essential, living part of all families.
I have been thinking about our family and its heart for a number of years. After the 2022 Hagenbuch Reunion, which focused on the theme of “One Family Together”, I started to consider another idea that appeared again and again in genealogy: what is at the center of a family and how this unites people. Eventually, I settled upon the metaphor of a heart to describe what I was seeing.
In humans, the heart is a strong muscle that moves life-giving blood throughout the body. It is a critical part of the circulatory system and, without a heart, we would die. In addition to its functions, the heart is a symbol, one that denotes kindness and love. These characteristics can be applied to families too.
Hearts colored by William L. Hagenbuch, age 5
A heart is central.
Within families, the heart acts like a hub for people related by blood, marriage, or other close ties. The heart of a family may be a person, like a parent or grandparent that relatives communicate with. It can be a place, such as a home or town where everyone gathers. Or, it may be a moment in time, like a holiday or occasion that fosters fellowship. In this way, the heart is comprised of different chambers: people, places, and moments.
This past Thanksgiving, I saw all three on display. The Hagenbuch family that I grew up in centers around my parents. These two people unite my own family—me, my wife, and my sons—with my sisters’ families. On this special day, all of us returned to my parents’ home and sat around the same table to celebrate. My parents, their house, and this occasion linked siblings, spouses, and grandchildren as one family.
Heart colored by Henry K. Hagenbuch, age 2
A heart is strong.
The heart of the family binds people together. As circumstances change and relatives drift apart, the heart anchors them and cements their common bonds. Family is a rock, the foundation upon which societies are organized. Even during times of disagreement, most people long for a familial connection and identify more strongly with their families than any national or political affiliation.
Here I am reminded of my maternal grandmother, Ethel I. (Brandt) Gutshall (b. 1918), who I called Oma. Oma’s quiet strength gathered her family for many years after her husband, Roy, died. It was only when Oma moved from her home that things began to change. As time passes, a family’s heart may change too. When one fades, others will strengthen to take its place, creating new centers within related families.
Heart colored by Andrew M. Hagenbuch
A heart sustains life.
The steady beat of the heart keeps a family alive, nurtures it, and preserves its history. Families are living things. They grow and evolve with time, adding new people and experiences. A healthy heart works silently in the background, meaning it can be easily overlooked. Still, this doesn’t lessen its importance.
Andreas Hagenbuch (b. 1715) established his homestead in Albany Township, Berks County, Pennsylvania in 1741. For over forty years, Andreas and his home were the lifeblood of our Hagenbuch family in America. Even after Andreas died in 1785, his descendants continued to live at and nearby the homestead. The family flourished. Children were born, grew up, married, and had children of their own. Some stayed, while others sought opportunities elsewhere. Unfortunately, when Andreas’ great grandson, Michael (b. 1805) died in 1855, the homestead was sold and the heart of this family stopped beating. The Hagenbuchs left Albany Township, never to return.
Heart colored by Sara (Mowery) Hagenbuch
A heart is love.
Fondness for one’s relatives centers around the heart of the family. It showers others with warmth and reinforces the positive feelings that come from connecting with loved ones. For many people, to be separated from their families leads to longing and heartache.
When I think of a loving heart, I remember my paternal grandmother, Irene M. (Faus) Hagenbuch (b. 1920), who I called Nana. Nana’s affection for her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren was unconditional. She enjoyed pleasing and helping them, especially through her cooking, letter writing, and craft making. Nana’s simple home was full of love. She never ceased to let her family know how much she cared.
Families are not static beings. Time reshapes them, just as it does to the heart of the family. In this moment, my family feels the winds of change. Several weeks ago, my father wrote about starting hospice care at home. His strength is fading, and this holiday we gather for what will likely be our last Christmas together. The weight of this moment cannot be understated. We know that our family is about to experience significant change. Yet, we also recognize that it can and will continue into the future.
This Christmas, as you gather with relatives, look around and ask, “What is the heart of my family?” Is it a person, like Nana; a place, similar to my parents’ home; or a moment, such as the holidays? Remember that every family, no matter how big or small, has a heart full of warmth and love. This heart is central to a family and to sustaining each person within it—now and for generations to come.
Merry Christmas from our Hagenbuch family to yours.
