If you’ve read Razor Bumps and Stretch Marks, you may recall the poems “Call for Mama” and “Daddy’s Blanket,” two of the poems in the collection that are either explicitly or implicitly about family, whether biological or otherwise.

We are often faced with the opportunity to celebrate family. There are also those moments when family ties are broken by death, by people moving away, or by growing apart. Our journey through life is filled with interactions that lead to friendships that sometimes become more meaningful than blood relations.

So who’s your family? And what does family mean for you? You would think the answers to this question are straightforward, but for many people, it is anything but. For you, is it simply a matter of DNA and genetics? Is it about shared values? Or is it about your cherished experiences and mutual aid in the trenches, when the chips were down and so-called “family” were either unwilling or unable to come to your rescue?

At the end of the day, it probably matters little who you call family. The question is: do they support you, tell you the truth even if it’s hard to say, and stick by you through thick and thin? Do they love you unconditionally? If so, be thankful and embrace them, whoever they are.

On one hand, we don’t choose the families we were born into, but then again, it’s up to you to determine the reach of your welcome. Extended family, anyone?

Hugs!

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