A Month of Reflection: Day Three
We are family, y'all are brothers and sisters to me!
Where was I… ahhh yes: soul family<3
Family, one of the hardest parts of family is that it isn’t forever. As big, strong, and beautiful as your tree is, branches will eventually get sick and fall off, storms hit and rip them away, sometimes you have to choose to take out the chainsaw and chop them down, for a myriad of reasons. Sometimes they take out their own chainsaw, from their branch pockets, and leave themselves. Those are the hardest I think.
Like my grandma, who chose to leave her sister out of her life, I be that really hurt. Yet, in my life she was always labeled the “evil twin”. Maybe she was just a human, a human who was hurt.
I kinda had two opposing family dynamics to look up to growing up. One where family was big and friendly and warm; and one where family felt a bit…scary. It made me afraid to love the wrong way. I am so grateful I have since learned there isn’t a wrong way to love, however, you can’t make someone accept your love. But, if someone doesn’t, there’s others out there who will.
Looking back, I can see so clearly how these conflicting definitions of family effected me. How it made me question my worth. My place in a family. My right to a family. I remember being so confused about who I was when it didn’t line up perfectly with who my family was.
On top of that the lines of friendship and family were very blurred for me. I don’t think this is bad, per se, I just think I had very unrealistic exceptions for friendships from a very young age. I thought the bonds and pacts we made as children were forever, and I took things very personally when I felt I wasn’t being considered. I think I’ve been inappropriately in love with friends I’ve had in the past. Not in like a sexual inappropriate way, but like I said, to me friends are family. So I loved them, a little too hard. I think I cared a little too much.
There were the ones who could take it, to them I am forever grateful.
The cool thing about my soul family, though my lines are all crossed and blurred and boundaries are not always held, it is so strong. It may not be as big as others. It for sure may not be as glamorous. I was just visited by a couple of friends from my days in Albany, NY; we were reminiscing on our days as scumbags of the world. Just drunkard kids, playing adult for a bit. We laughed at how unbelievably lucky we were to be able to do that, and do it safely. I love them for it. They have seen me at my worst, on my knees with puke in my hair. They have seen me through love, loss and all that’s in between and they have found love for me. That’s family.
I am extra grateful for this perspective of mine of soul family when I think about my child. I am only having one, Phoebe. So of course I am terrified of making her be that one strange only child. She has two cousins so far, but it’s rather unlikely she will have anymore. So she too will have a small family. I want her to have those experiences with a big family, I want her to see that love. Thanks to my soul family I can.
Her cousins are infinite. I have been fortunate to not only have had the world’s best child, but all of my friends have too. Seriously. My family1 makes the most beautiful and gifted children. Luckily, they are all over the world too. I’ll not only get to show Phoebe the world, but I will be able to show her she is connected to the whole world. We are all family.
I really do think of it that way. That we are all family. Like at the roots of all our family trees there is just one massive structure that we all entangle into, making it impossible to distinguish one family from another. No matter race, where you’re from, you’re religion, until I am given a reason not to, I truly view everyone around me as my family. Deserving of love.
While my experience with family has had a lot of loss marbled through it, it has taught me the art of navigating loss comes down to one key element: trust. Trusting that there is more love to be had, and that the love you once shared doesn’t have to be sacrificed even though the relationship ended.
I had a cousin, Ben, on my Dad's side of the family. He was gay and rather extravagant. From what I remember being told he also made some poor choices in life. He was much older than me so my memories are rather faded, but before learning about the painful things he had done to the family, we had our best Christmas Eve ever.
Nana and Papa’s house sat at the top of a hill, making it perfect for the central New York winters. One winter, before this regular occurrence of snow scattered winters, it was unseasonably late for there to not have been a snow. Christmas Eve was typically guaranteed to be white. This year the snow started falling late in the day, finally. By the time we had arrived back to the grandparent’s after mass the hill was ready for sledding. We only had one sled, thankfully cousin Ben had worn his leather pants, making a sled useless to him. Plus the leather made him go much faster. We laughed. We laughed and laughed. And it was like for a moment there was no weird energy in the family. My mom didn’t think the things she did about his family, my aunt didn’t dislike my mom.
It’s one of my few “picture perfect” family memories. The kind that would play in a highlight reel of my life that excluded all the hard parts. Even though Ben is gone now. He passed away years ago and I hadn’t known him before he died. He had another large blow out with his sister and mom, then I heard he died a while after that. He had HIV. Then I was told a bit more about all the bad he had done. Taken money from Papa, lied to my aunt. Other stuff. if you ask me though, he was surviving.
Family helps family survive. Or maybe families cut off the diseased branches…I am not quite sure which is the better option…
As always, thank you so much for being here, reading my words, and allowing me this space. Please, if you have a moment I am attaching two links, both options to make an impact in the world and save a family. Free, free Palestine.
GoFundMe to help save Mohammad's family in Gaza
Operation Olive Branch: One Click Email List
From here out every use of family is in reference to the aforementioned soul family. I will specify if I am only referring to my blood relatives. Footnotes make me feel like such a real writer. Read my notes, bitches. Just kidding I love you, fam. Ugh I am cringey.