Don’t get me wrong, I love, love, love my family — I enjoy spending time with them, I think who I am is due to their subtle and not so subtle influence (try being a Ross grandchild who decides to leave college… the opinions aren’t so subtly presented..trust me). I know they love and support me, even when it’s been a long time between actually seeing one another.
Some recent (non-blogable) events have made me really value my Framily — my friends who are like family… and, in particular, a whole family I’ve become close to.
My “real” family has to accept me, for the most part. If I were an active drug-using hooker they may tell me not to come to family parties — but, short of that I’m part of the package of extended family… and they can’t easily get rid of me.
My framily had a choice, they could take me or leave me. They could tell me to go away for any reason. That they didn’t, and that they welcome me into their homes and lives is something for which I am quite grateful. I made a choice to get close to them and I’m all the richer for it. It seems to me that we’re all better when more folks care and worry about us — and my framily has added to my life in a significant way.
If the world collapsed around me, most of my family would be across the country. It would take time for them to get here and help me put things back together. If something horrible happened, my framily would be my first call — I know they’d love, comfort, support and feed me (there’s always food with the framily). I know they’d give hugs, good advice and support in any way they could.
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