Whoah, where have the last couple of weeks gone? It’s been a busy time I know, and my writing has been crammed into a small corner of my brain while other things have taken precedence. But I guess that’s life. So, with things a little less frenetic, and on a beautiful spring afternoon, back to the writing…..
I visited my twin Aunts yesterday, and we had a lovely day catching up. We chatted about things ancient and modern – after all, they have known me all my life, and I’ve known them a great deal of theirs. With them I can truly be myself because I know I am loved and fully accepted. They were just seventeen when I was born, and with my own parents now passed on, they are all I have left of the generation above mine. They cuddled me as a baby, held my hands and took me to the park to feed the squirrels, and they remember my first halting attempts to speak in words and sentences. They knew me as a teenager, and still loved me during those self-absorbed, self-important years, when I and my wants and needs were the only things that mattered in my universe. They watched me enter adulthood, and grow up to be (hopefully) a much nicer, more caring person. They saw me become a wife and then a mother, with my own wonderful children. And then it came full circle, as my sisters had children too, and I had nephews and nieces of my own to love unconditionally through all the traumas of childhood.
As we grow older our families change; the older members (and some not so old) pass on, to be remembered with fondness; and new ones are born, to be loved and accepted in their turn.
I believe that although it is somewhere we make many mistakes, family is predominantly a place to love and be loved, to accept and be accepted.