The word 'family' comes up quite often around the holidays. Crazy Uncle Ed, Nutty Aunt Sue, Grandma So-And-So and her 'indulgences'...
Yes, we are all born into a family. That isn't what defines us. In return, we can choose the people that possibly DO define us...and essentially make our own family. I realize this isn't a new thought. However; it has been heavy on my mind. The people on this Earth that I am related to by blood are few and far between. By their choice, mine or God's. The people I have in my life are the best people I have ever met. The few that were taken by God I miss dearly. Daily.
Currently there is a commercial for the complete Shirley Temple DVD collection playing on my tv. I am tempted to order it because it reminds me of times spent with my grandpa when I was a little girl.
I saw another commercial today for the Magic Bullet and I couldn't help but think of my dad, another of God's angels. He loved that thing, had 2 of them and bought me one and I NEVER figured out how to make a smoothie in the stupid thing.
One of my friends is facing possible thyroid cancer. Its still in the preliminary stages of diagnosis and will most likely end up as a growth in need of removal, benign. I can't help but worry for her and though we have only come to know each other in the last few months, she is so present in my almost daily life that I also can't help but think as to how much she means to me and the fact that we share more and know more about each other than I do with my husband of 5 years entire family.
I still have friends that hide things from their mom and dad. My mom is my best friend. My husband should be. He isn't around enough due to the demands of our finances to be so. My dad was. He's dead and that is a reality I struggle to face every day, even a year and a half later.
My favorite cousin in MN, my dad's best friend's family in So. IL, the friend in CL that blocked me from their FB account for a reason I'm not sure of whose company and virtual companionship I miss quite often.
So I guess family is a funny word to me, these days. Whatever the definition, I know who mine is. I love them and I miss them and I know the person I am, good or bad, is directly influenced by them.
