Chosen Family
Love finds a way.
I was blessed with a great family. Two brothers, Mom and Dad, pets, suburban life, the whole bit. But things have changed. My parents died during COVID, and we have all scattered. Family members are all around the country, and everyone is busy with their own lives. We love each other, but we don’t get together as much as we used to.
It happens. In today’s world, jobs move around, neighborhoods change, and people marry and divorce with effects on all kinds of relationships. Sometimes birth families aren’t so welcoming. Political differences or misunderstandings or intolerance can cause families to break apart. Robert Frost said, “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, They have to take you in.” But it’s not true. Sometimes individuals are locked out — physically or emotionally.
Human beings are social animals. We need each other. When we don’t have enough connections, or the right connections, we feel a kind of emptiness that can only be filled by relationship. It is then that sometimes the magic happens. There is an invitation. A spark of interest. A possibility develops that is worth the risk, and a group coalesces around each other.
I’ve been a part of such a group for years now. We are all very different, from different backgrounds and with different experiences, but somehow it works. Almost every week we get together for dinner on Sunday, and we talk about everything and nothing. The most interesting and most important thing is that we care about each other. If I really need help, I can call on these people and be confident that they will respond, and I would be there for them. I have come to love these people.
We call ourselves “chosen family,” and that’s a good label, because we each choose to be there and be a part of the group, and in many ways we act like a family — we argue, we make fun of each other, we know our faults, we support each other, we celebrate our successes, and we help where we can. We also call each other out and tick each other off. It’s not perfect, but somehow it is better than facing the world alone.
Right now, one of our members is dying from cancer. It is heartbreaking, and scary. One of the many reasons it is scary is that this is the person who pulled us all together. He was the one who made the invitations, who served the dinners, who made the initial connections, who was the patriarch of our group. Losing him will be a disruption in the bonds that hold us together. We are all gathering around him now, bringing love and support and doing what we can. But when we lose him, like any family, we will have to regroup. It will never be the same, but I’m hoping it will take on a new form that will be just as much a blessing.
Thanks for this.