You Can’t Choose Your Family, but I’m Blessed Because My Family Chose Me

No, my parents did not adopt me, but my family did.

My mother is 85 and has memory issues.

I have a brother 9 years older than me. My father passed away in 1998. I have one uncle, and three aunts still living, along with at least 26 cousins, 2 sister-in-laws, and both of my in-laws, and yet sometimes I feel as if I am an orphan.

My brother went to college when I was in third grade, and even though he came back home to live on and off while I was growing up, we were never close. My cousins, with the exception of one, were all either much older than me, or we did not visit often.

I always dreamed of being really close to my sister-in-laws. In my dreams we would shop together, raise our children together, and run in and out of each others houses. The reality of having sister-in-laws did not come close to my dreams. Raymond and I moved to Texas after our wedding and we only saw his sisters a few times after our wedding. In fact, I’ve only seen his youngest sister about four times in 24 years, and his other sister and I have probably only seen each other 15 times in that time. At least she and I had some visits that lasted for several days. However, the connection wasn’t there. We were too far away, and did not really keep in touch between visits.

My brother moved to California before I got married and there would be years between visits. I never met his first wife. I have not met my youngest nephew, who is 19 or 20.

When Raymond died, I looked at my life and realized that other than my sons, and my mother, I was an orphan when it came to close blood relatives, and it made me feel a little panicked. When I started to think about what would happen if I became ill, or if I was in a car wreck, etc. I wondered who would be there for me that would be capable of helping me and my boys. Just thinking about all the things that could happen that would require help made me break out in sweats and my heart palpitate.

It wasn’t until I took a good look at my life that I realized I have enough family to require extra tables at Thanksgiving dinner. I am blessed with some friends that have become family, and some of those friends have family members that have also adopted me.

These friends have become my true family. These friends drop what they are doing to help me when I am in true need. These friends and their family go with me to see my sons perform or accept accolades so that they can share that proud feeling. These friends have been there for me a lot more than any of my in-laws or blood relatives, other than my mother. These friends chose to be close to me. These friends have shown me what it is to have a real “family.”

As I get better about accepting help, and learning to show parts of my life where I am vulnerable, my “family” has rallied around and helped me. They listen to me.

I still mourn the fact that I did not end up with the life I dreamed all those years ago, but that was a dream. The reality of my “family” may not include family trips and weekend picnics with the clan, but I am such a pain and so picky I probably would not have enjoyed those activities any where but in my dreams. Then there is the fact that everyone is so busy these days I do not know many families that have weekend picnics with all their siblings and their families very often. The reality of my “family” is pretty much all a person could hope for, except Raymond is not here with us.

I am so blessed to have been chosen.