Family

At the beginning of last week, I had the joy of going to visit some of my more extended family. And while I was there, I celebrated the upcoming birth of a baby. Then I laughed so hard my drink came out of my nose (not pretty!). And I shed some tears when we were reminiscing about the ones who couldn't meet with us for different reasons. Then, on my 4-hour drive home, I got to thinking about visiting family and what that meant. Not “visiting family” defined as “taking time [possibly traveling] to be in the same location and converse with those that you share mutual DNA with”, but “visiting family” defined by us in our own way. Which this time meant “spending time loving those around you”.

The family members I visited last week are a mixture of blood, marriage, and claim. Most of our time was spent with my grandmother’s sister’s kid (so, a cousin). She is closer with my mom than they are to some of their own siblings. I visited some of my other family at the cemetery, including a few people who we've always considered family but no one has ever been able to figure out how they got there.

Then, there was the trip to the farm. Here is where I met 5 amazing kids and re-connected with their mom, who has been a member of my family since I was a kid, only because we claim her to be. Someone asked me how we are related to them and my response of “it’s complicated, but they've always been family” didn't appease her curiosity. So, I broke it down for her: my mother’s now-dead ex-husband’s previous wife’s sister’s kid. [Did you follow the bouncing ball there?] Her response was “so, we’re not related.” Well, only if you want to be… Husband and wife got divorced, the family kept in touch with the husband, through his marriage and divorce from my mom, and then they kept in touch with her. Best part? Growing up, my mom, my dad, and I used to go visit them. And it was NEVER weird! Because it was just more family.

See, my family hasn’t EVER been defined by blood relation or matching last names. I was born an only child but gained an older brother and sister, by label alone. I think you can define family as whoever you want to be there with you to celebrate the good times. Add in those that support you during the struggles and weep with you during times of grief, and you’ve got a solid family. See, my “sister” was technically (by blood) my first cousin, but I don’t remember a happy or sad time not spent with her by my side, up until the moment she passed away. And my “brother” isn’t blood related to me at all. He came to Minnesota from his own hometown chasing love. His 3 kids are my blood relatives because he married someone that is blood related to me, but that doesn’t mean she’s more my family than he is.

Life changes with time, and with those changes, you gain and lose family members for varying reasons. Some are born, some die, some marry, some divorce. Some slowly become a part of the family and some abruptly leave it. People come and go throughout your life, but everyone leaves their footprints on your heart – good or bad. In the end, it’s not about who you’re “related” to, but who you choose to associate as family.

Life is about the laughter that turns into tears, nights that turn into mornings, and friends who become family. These are the people that I’m grateful for. These are the people I love.

More graffiti soon,

~A