The Family you choose is more important than the family you have been born into!

The Family you choose is more important than the family you have been born into!

I didn't realize until I was older that I had a different perspective on family than other people. I suppose the root of this might be because I am adopted. I always knew I was adopted, so it's not like I was blindsided with it. My parents bounced me on their knee and said things like I love you I am so happy we adopted you. I knew that I was adopted even before I knew what being adopted even meant. For the longest while I thought I was chosen from a veritable smorgasbord of babies and I was the cutest one! It was a slight blow to my ego to find out that picking babies up like a buffet was not the standard operating procedure of adoption. Regardless of how it happened, I was Chosen.

This week end I got to go to Toronto and share a hotel room with part of my family. This part of my family I wasn't born into, or adopted into, but none the less they are my family. We are family, because we choose to be. Not only do the adults choose to be family, but equally if not more importantly our children choose to be family. Love is an action word, it is an active choice and an active process. There is nothing on the face of this earth that is more precious than the love of a child. The love of a child should not be taken so lightly.

Our children got to laugh and play and the adults managed to squeeze in a few hours of grown up shenanigans which were only highlighted by the atrocious garlic breath and the terrible gas later on. (If you can't fart around your family, by God who can you fart around?) The late night chatting and laughs were off the scale, and the food was great! I even managed to sleep in too! These things were amazing, but two things stood out in my mind that meant the world to me.

The first one was watching our daughters walk hand in hand down the mall. My daughter reaches for my hand it's not an uncommon thing. But to see her at the age of 10 walking proudly hand in hand with her friend caused me to well up with tears. (I'm not what you might consider an easy crier and when my tears do come it's something deeply emotional). Too me, this was a deeply emotional sight. It made my heart burst in my chest to see two little girls love each other and express themselves this way. (They were also pretty cute when the shovelled the driveway when we got back to the city.)

The second one was my family member spending time getting close and treating me like a sister. I never grew up with a sister and can't identify how that might feel, but I think this might be pretty close. With most people I feel almost a tangible barrier, but her this doesn't exist. With this family member, the only thing wanted from me was for me to be me and that speaks volumes. She encouraged me to cut my hair the way I wanted it. (I had been letting it grow at the suggestion of a few other people). It felt good to shear off the hair, and symbolic of shearing off the expectation of others. For the first time in months I looked at myself and said to myself, “Yup that is me.” and not “yup that is the version of me that other people want.” I never realized how important it was for me to have closely cropped hair. If I don't conform to your stereotypical version of femininity that isn't my problem, but rather yours. The best thing about it was I knew how much joy she got from me expressing my individuality and uniqueness. (not that everyone isn't unique, but rather my own brand of uniqueness) The fact that it made her happy that I was happy only made me happier! She also said I had a uniquely shaped head in an attractive way. I was the strangest heartfelt compliment I had ever received.

The third moment was a simple cup of coffee. My family member knew I was a little tired after driving around during the day and a little frustrated with inconsiderate traffic who caused a delay in the drive. (It wasn't the delay that bothered me, but the inconsiderateness of the other driver). My family member disappeared for a while and I figured that he was busy taking in the luggage or putting it away or some other mundane adult duty. When he appeared at the door with a hot portable mug of coffee I nearly cried. It was one of the sweetest, simplest gestures anyone could have made. This cup of coffee said so many things to me. It said, “Hey I'm worried about you and want you to be safe for the 15 minute drive home”, It said, “I know you are sick with a cold still and I want you to be warm”, It said, “Hey I know one of your favourite things in the world is coffee, so I made you this one to enjoy because I know you love it!” It said, “Hey I want to take care of you too!” The biggest thing it said to me was, “I'm thinking about you! I have a wife and kids that I love, but I love you too.” It's is these little things that mean so much to me and why I love my family. These things that cost nothing but have so much value that I cherish. I also know that as I'm sitting here at home in my office with tears of joy streaming down my face and a warm mug of coffee in my hand that they aren't very far away and I am in their hearts too. Too love and to be loved for who you are is amazing. Yesterday I was awesome because I love my family for who they are, and today I am awesome because I am loved by my family who I am. And that folks is pretty awesome!