My blogger website has been down for the past couple days, but I kept myself busy with my aunt and uncle. Aunt Karen just recently got an iPad, so, we had to explore the music, games, apps, everything. We worked very hard. Now, to some, it may have appeared that we were doing nothing. But, I have to vehemently deny that assertion. Not only were we learning, exploring, and connecting neurons in our brain, we were getting to know each other. We were connecting and sharing parts of who we were with each other.
I can count on one hand how many times I have seen my aunt and uncle since I have any recollection of memories of my own life; my wedding, my grandfather's funeral, my uncle's funeral, and my father's funeral. Funny how family can be so far away, disconnected, but when major life events occur, they always show up. This time they showed up just to visit. They were driving through on their way back to Washington State in their RV with their two dogs. They did a lot of sight seeing as they began their travels the day after my dad died. They made it to Indianapolis by his funeral. Then traveled to see their daughter, and then on to Florida to see my mother. They chose to stop by; nobody had died, gotten married, had a baby, or required anything of them. Well, I did need more time with her iPad, but they didn't have to oblige me.
I had deluded myself for some time into believing that I could get by with being distanced from my family. In my head, family was more than blood. Family was the people who walked along side us, and loved us when our blood family were too far away, either physically or emotionally. Family were our neighbors, our friends, our students, our colleagues, and our church. Part of me will always consider these various entities my family. They are the people who brought us a meal when my children were sick, or let me drop my kids off to them when I had an audition, or a performance. These people loved my children when I have been too impatient, frustrated, or sad to do them right. Then there are the folks who listened to me cry my heart out because I didn't understand why a woman who has struggled her whole life had to suffer a brain aneurysm that kept her from being the woman, the mother, the employee she needed to be to survive in this world. There were friends who watched me fall apart because I couldn't serve in the capacity that I wanted or needed and told me I would be ok. Some dear friends watched my life crack wide open as my reputation, value, and identity were questioned, ridiculed, and humiliated. They stood beside me, loved me and encouraged me to put myself back together. They saw me when I didn't see myself.
There were friends who cautioned me about giving too much of myself away in my effort to love and support others. Friends who I considered family because they loved me despite my frustrated outbursts at staff and committee meetings. Some came into my home to get me out of bed when I didn't want to face the morning. Some dear friends let me hold their newborn babies, or hug their sweet preschoolers as they walked by me at church. These family members had no blood relation to me, but they cared enough in the midst of life's highs and lows to email or call me to be sure I was breathing. The friends from here to Champaign, from New York to Indianapolis, from Chicago, and every small town and suburb across this state and country loved my children, my husband and me even when they didn't have to or know how to love us. I could write a blog recounting the variety of ways I was blessed in being able to love others who, even though I wasn't their family, let me love them in moments of vulnerability, sadness, and celebration.
I will always consider these people my family. Whether or not they knew I was related to them, they will always be considered family in my heart. I guess I underestimated how my family, the one I was born into, though not always within driving distance or in my everyday interactions, has loved and accepted me; even though they weren't a part of our every day lives. My aunt and uncle knew my heart for my children, and they had a vested interest in getting to know them for who they were. I was able to be me and trust that they would love me. I could tell them about my sadness, my fears, my joys, my anxiety, and my passion. They were always caring for me, even when they didn't know all the details.
I know that my friends are my family and will continue to love us even though we won't be close to them anymore. I have learned I can rely on my family members, both blood relations, and the gifts of family members who God has given us throughout every stage of our life. Of course, their are some people who I will always misappropriately label as family. I will continue to learn through painful experiences that I should not trust so fully or so liberally allow others to be part of our family. All families have disagreements, arguments, and brokenness. But, when I try to claim a friend as family, I am not honoring the mutual decision that has to be made in maintaining the relationship. And, in reality, I don't get to be the one who claims a person as a family member. Just loving a person and wanting to care for them doesn't mean they are willing or able to receive what I,or my family has to offer. I don't get to choose or take someone as mine. God gives them to me, to us. He has given us beautiful children, siblings, parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. He has also given us wonderful neighbors, teachers, mentors, friends, colleagues, students, and church leaders. God has given each of us our family in a myriad of ways and through diverse and complex relationships.
Just as I did when my grandparents used to drive away from our house after a short visit when I was younger, I cried when my aunt and uncle left this morning. I remember crying when my mom and dad would leave after they would visit us in New York. Crying when people leave or when I have to leave is a part of who I am. Whether we are given the opportunity to move in a new direction before this fall begins, or in a year, I have already begun grieving, crying as I say good-bye to the experiences and relationships that have been my family. But, unlike when I was a little girl, sitting on the step as my grandparents drove away, or like I was this morning as my aunt and uncle headed out; I will know that each moment and family member who God has given me will never leave me. I will still cry, but I will be comforted in knowing that those who are really my family, those by blood, and those gifted to me in other forms will love me and allow me to love them, no matter what, and even if.
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