Tag: family

I Love You

A dear friend of mine lost three of her family members in a single accident. It’s hard to get my head around this.

I sat my kiddo down when I heard the news. “You know I love you, right?” She nodded and I continued, “Even when I’m a jerk, even when you’re a jerk, I love you every day, all day long, okay?”

…And so this is for all of you: my family, my friends, my friends who are family, my great loves past, present, and future, and even to those from all categories who’ve already left this life. I love you.

I love you on the days we gather to celebrate, and I love you on the days when we gather to mourn. I love you when you’re being an asshole and can’t decide what you want for dinner. I love you when I’m being a jackass and want to eat peanut butter out of the jar.

I love you when I like your posts on Facebook. I still love you when I haven’t been on Facebook for a while. I love you when you remember Halloween is my favorite time of year, and I love you when I tolerate your excitement over snow and eggnog.

I love you when you text me stupid things to make me laugh. I love you when I forget to text you back. I love you when we have adventures. I love you when I’m antisocial and want to be left the hell alone.

I love you even when I haven’t seen you in a long time, even a really long time. I love you when I send you snail mail. I love you when I forget to mail the card.

I love you when you don’t know what to say. I love you every time you say the most perfect thing, and even when you’re eating crow.

I love you for letting me have the apple butter…all the apple butter. I love you for showing up when you say you will. I love you because you don’t get flustered when I want to drive everywhere we go.

I love you for bringing me coffee at work. I love you for your innuendos. I love you for your character. I love you for accepting my weirdness without flinching.

I love you for hugging me even on days when hugs freakin’ creep me out. I love you for knowing when it’s a terrible idea to try to hug me.

I love you for sharing music with me. I love you for sharing books with me. I love you even when your books and music totally suck.

I love you for sharing secrets with me. I love you even though you think I don’t know all your secrets…but I do, and I’m still here.

I love you because we laugh together. I love you because you quote song lyrics and movies right along with me. I love you when we make crafts, food, and messes together.

I love you for taking care of me when I’m too stubborn to ask for help. I love you for letting me take care of you, for letting me buy your coffee sometimes.

I love you when you do stupid things. I love you when you should know better. I love you when I’m rolling my eyes at the dumbest joke I’ve ever heard.

I love you when you achieve your goals. I love you when you fall flat on your face. I love you for encouraging me. I love you for supporting me even when I’ve been an idiot.

I love you when you don’t love yourself. I love you on your bad hair days. I love you on my bad hair days, and there are a lot of those.

Every day. All day. Cliché? Yeah, maybe. You are part of the shiny strands that are woven together to make up the wild and beautiful spider web of my life. Thank you.

Goodbyes And Hellos

I only met my biological grandmother a few months ago.  I liked her right away; her sass and humor were a warm welcome to this long lost grandchild.

My grandmother went into the hospital and didn’t get to go back home.  She was laid to rest in a lovely service yesterday on a beautiful sunny day filled with blue skies and fluffy clouds.

One of the good things about where I’m from is also one of the bad things: everyone knows who you are.  Everyone knows your business.  Everyone knows your kin.

Standing with my kiddo beside me waiting for the service begin, I heard one of the old folks behind me whispering.  Old folks don’t whisper very well.  “That’s his oldest child, she’s the doctor’s granddaughter.”  Yes, that’s me.  The oldest child, the oldest grandchild.  My mother’s father was the local doctor, so everyone knew him, knew her and knew me, too.  I turned around and looked at the old folks, trying to muster a grin, and they hushed their gossip.

I looked beside my kiddo at who had just approached and taken a spot near us on the grass, and it was one of my brothers.  I’d only met my sisters so far, but I could have picked my brothers out of a crowd of thousands easily.  This brother was another of the long lost and until recently unclaimed variety like me, but I knew him right away.  I whispered in the kiddo’s ear that it was one of my brothers next to her, and she whispered back to ask how I knew.  I just knew.

Saying goodbye to family you only just met is hard.  The service was sweet with a beautiful poetry reading, and the familiar refrain of “ashes to ashes, dust to dust” was repeated often to remind us all that this is the normal circle of life, the normal way of things.  I was sad because I still have so many questions, and my grandmother was most likely the only one left to give me answers, and yet here we were, gathered to celebrate her life and say goodbye so soon after saying hello.

After the service, I found my sisters and spoke with them briefly.  They had throngs of well-wishers to greet and thank.  I didn’t have any throngs since I only just came out of hiding a few months ago, only just stepped out of the shadows where bastard offspring lurk.  I found my two brothers and stood in front of them and said something like, “Hello, sorry to meet you on such a sad day; I’m your oldest sister.”  They looked surprised but happy.  The kiddo says I look like my brothers, and I don’t disagree.

I had to hurry away after that, because it was just too overwhelming.  Too many important goodbyes and hellos sandwiched into too short of a time span.  I was feeling shaky with so many emotions rushing around at once.  They are my family.  I don’t know if there is a place for me among them after all this time, but they are my family.

grandparents

My granddad has  been moved to a rehabilitation hospital.  Lots of physical therapy for him.  Still not an excellent health report yet, but he’s improved some.

Biological grandmother, the one I just met,  is in the hospital.  I’ve tried a couple times to go see her, but the door has been closed with nurses inside doing their nurse stuff both times.  Bad timing on my part, I guess.  Makes me nervous.  I only just met her.  I still have questions that only she could answer now that my biological dad has passed away.

Thinking good thoughts for both of them.  Hoping for good things.