ROCKS

They drive me crazy. 

Make me stutter.

Tease me.

Annoy me. 

Break my heart.  

Break it again.  

Ignore me. 

Question my decisions.  

Judge me. 

Give me the look.

Talk behind my back.

Disappoint me.

Fail to appreciate one smidgen of my awesomeness. 

Judge me some more.

A loved one dies. A stranger enters a funeral parlor. Seeking a casket, she discovers the breathing, pulsing drama of family; united to mourn, united to celebrate a life, united, spreading fresh brush strokes across a living tapestry called 'kin'. 

Vibrant.  Subtle.  Maddening.  Rich.  Striking.  Complex.

The stranger sees what the family takes for granted.  Brothers, sisters, cousins, parents, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews linked by an invisible, invincible thread of heredity, history, crisis, experience.  

Overwhelmed, the stranger squeezes my hand and speaks: "You are so blessed to be part of a family like this."  

She doesn't know the half of it: the arguments, pettiness, silliness, competition. The drama.

The stranger only sees the bond.  The love.  Immeasurable and real.

She is right to remind me. 

They are my refuge.  

Wings.

Shelter.

Hope. 

Past. And future.

They make me nuts.  

But I love them.  

 

Family rocks. 

QUING Hereby Decrees: Take a good look; through someone else's eyes.