Family of the Heart

Growing up, we didn't live close to any family - even though both my parents were from relatively large families. Mostly this was their choice, though some was definitely job related. Regardless of the reasons, mom and dad did their best to make sure we were exposed to the extended family at least once a year, if not more often. This involved every Christmas at Grandma and Grandpa's until I was about 15 (at which point I realized that you don't HAVE to go somewhere for Christmas...you can actually do this at your own house. It was a revelation.) and summer trips - often just my sister and myself, but sometimes the whole family - back out to G&Gs. Most of the other relatives were close enough to G&G that we could see the whole clan while we visited. Despite all this (or perhaps in some ways because of it), I really never felt close to - or even loved by - any of this extended family. (Though I will say in recent years I have grown close to one aunt and uncle and I do love them dearly, and they me.)

I think my parents realized this. So, growing up, I had lots of surrogate aunts and uncles. These were good friends of my parents who, rather than being Mr and Mrs so and so, were aunt and uncle so and so. I was probably 10 before I realized they weren't actually my relatives. When I did, it broke my heart.

This past weekend, one of my surrogate uncles passed away. I don't have a lot of clear, crisp memories of him. They moved when I was about six. But I have never needed to question that they love me. On my birthday this year, this surrogate aunt sent me a card that said, "I thank God every day for making you who you are." A simple thing to say, but it sums up the warmth I feel when I think of them. They, and my other surrogate aunts and uncles, are my family of the heart.