I’m not allowed to write anything about what happened at last weekend’s Girls Weekend.
I think you’d probably find it amusing.
But mostly at my expense.
So I’m not about to record what happened for all eternity here on this blog.
(Amy has it on her video camera for those who are really interested.)
But what I did say there, in front of my fellow Hooleys, and will say here:
I am so, so lucky to be a part of this family.
I feel incredibly grateful that we were raised to value our family, and to cherish our relationships. Dan and Ellen did truly create a great thing.
Our family isn’t perfect. Every family has its ups and downs, and we’re no different. But I grew up knowing my aunts and uncles and cousins — not just visiting them, but KNOWING them. For many, I know their musical preferences, their favored drinks, their card games. (We spent a lot of Saturday nights with country music, Chinese food, and cribbage.)
I wouldn’t have it any other way. (Well, maybe except the country music, but that’s my Uncle Al all over, so even then I’m willing to make an exception.)
I’ll be honest — it can make for crazy trips home, especially because I was lucky enough to marry into a family with the same values. We often have a long list of people to see, and we have to make our way through a lot of family before we get to actual friends.
Then again, that line gets blurred when your family are your friends.
I love, LOVE having a close-knit family, and I can’t imagine having married into a family that wasn’t the same way. The sister networks are strong, and they make a difference. They keep our families together.
I feel lucky that my parents raised three children who like being together. We don’t get to do it nearly enough anymore, but I have no doubt that we are all excited for the days to come in July.
I like that my family smiles when they see me, and vice versa.
Of course, there is a bittersweet side to all of this.
I’m not there.
I miss my family. I have a nephew whose smile makes us smile, and whose laugh we don’t get to hear nearly enough.
Maybe absence makes the heart grow fonder?
It turns out I’m kind of fond of these people regardless of mileage.
But while I’m here, I’ll fall back on that platitude.
And my United miles.
But I miss my family.
I realize how lucky I am that I do.