Miriam Webster defines family as: 1a: the basic unit in society traditionally consisting of two parents rearing their children. also: any of various social units differing from but regarded as equivalent to the traditional family, a single-parent family b: spouse and children.
But what about the less clinical definition I put upon the word “family”, and the importance I assign to it? There was a time I had two families, my birth family whom I met in my late twenties, and my adopted family who adopted me from birth. Now, I feel like I have no family. I am talking about my family(ies) of origin, not the family I raised, just to clarify.
What does our society say about family? That nothing is more important? That they always stick together no matter what? Members of a family support and love one another through all things? That we must forgive the transgressions of our siblings or parents just because they are related? They should be close and spend all the holidays together? I think the answer to all of these questions is yes.
Where did these notions come from? Leave it to Beaver, the Brady Bunch, Growing Pains, Family Ties, Family Matters, Modern Family, and even the Cosby Show back in the day. These types of shows sell us the idea most of a family’s issues can be usually be solved in an hour or less. Sometimes it can take two episodes if it is very serious.
I must concede the media isn’t the only reason our society believes what it does. There was a time when having a large family and staying close was important for survival. There may have been more mouths to feed at first but it turns into extra hands on the farm or in the field. This was as recent as when my parents were children. It was in everyone’s best interest to get along with one another and help each other. People nowadays have become more mobile than ever before, families are more scattered and there’s less need of large families but the same values still seem to apply.
What kind of magic does family hold for me? The child in me only wants to be seen, feel safe and loved. Had I felt any of this as a growing up I think I would have been a very different teenager and young adult. Instead I was full of pain and rage and I acted accordingly. So far, my family issues haven’t been resolved and it’s been over fifty years, never mind a couple of hours.
It’s that desire for that safety, love and acknowledgement I never got as a child that makes me miss having a family. I think I feel that way because I still hold on to some hope that things will change, that my parents will open their eyes and see me. What do I do about this inner child who still wants these things? The mantle falls to me to protect, nurture and love the little girl inside.
My biological mother and I haven’t spoken in years. My ex husband had a way of driving big wedges between me and the people in my life and I believe that’s what happened with her. I was twice tossed away now, she won’t get another chance. Her siblings haven’t spoken to me in about eight years as the only time they ever did was when we gathered at my biological mother’s on holidays, though one uncle and I still chat from time to time. According to him, she has withdrawn from the family since their parents passed away. Isn’t blood supposed to be thicker than water (or in this case ink)? Isn’t that what they say?
I haven’t spoken to my parents in months. They’ve never been the type to call me and the trend continues. I haven’t called them because of the pain it causes me. I used to try to fit in with them, I tried to be a good and supportive daughter but ever since my father and I had a falling out last June I’ve given up. Twenty years of doing better and living honestly didn’t earn me one bit of credibility or trust so maybe it’s time to walk away.
I know I’m leaving this at a place of hurt without a pathway forward to healing. That’s because I haven’t quite figured it out yet but I will.
My Phoenix Rising 