There is something about hanging out with family that I find comforting. Something I think we all find comforting. Even when it's family that you don't know or aren't directly related to.
This past weekend my wife and I headed up to the Chicago area to see some of her family. (Of course, they are now my family through marriage, but to keep the connections straight I'll refer to them as 'her family.') We arrived at her grandmother's house late Friday night. Her aunt and uncle were there as well. They were staying with my wife's grandma for the week. This is only the third time I have seen my wife's grandmother. We visited her once when we were engaged and then she came to the wedding. Even though I could easily classify her as an acquaintance, it was comforting being in her home, sleeping on her pull-out couch, eating at her kitchen table.
I spent an hour or so visiting with my wife's uncle while the girl's were at the store. He is even more of a stranger to me, having only met him briefly after our wedding. But I felt so relaxed just chatting with him for that short little while. I didn't recognize some of the names in the conversation, but that didn't really matter much to me. We were talking about family.
It's funny how we humans seem to feel the need to classify our relationships. We have our friends, acquaintances, close friends, work friends, old friends from school, neighbors, family, immediate family, distant relatives, and the list goes on. But for me, the moniker of 'family' is enough to make me feel right at home, no matter how far back our history goes.
No comments:
Post a Comment