My Kind of Family

Given how I grew up, I feel like I have a rather strange picture of what a family should be.  It was less than ideal, the life I had, but it made me and so in a bittersweet sort of way I love what it was.

I have sisters and brothers related to me by circumstance, not by blood.  I have a dad, and an extra few too.  I had several moms.  I have a few brothers genetically my own who made me tough.  Aunts, uncles and cousins by the dozen.

Sometimes I saw it as dysfunctional.  But as I got older I understood how much stronger it made me.

I guess I always saw family as a kind of patchwork quilt.

There's a base, something you're given to build on, to expand.  Mine wasn't too great.  Weak spots and rather bare.

Holes are torn, holes remain unless you find a suitable thread and strong patch to cover it.  So many holes.  Some torn, patched and torn again.  Some covered more than ten times.  Some left open to serve as a reminder.  Some left open because I grew accustomed to a bit of a drafty spot.

All sorts of prints and patterns, different types of fabric, thrown together to mix and mingle with you and each other until this beautiful practically-piece-of-art is the result.  Something you can be proud of or hide away.  I used to be ashamed, but then realized how perfectly lovely I could make it, if I chose to.  And I did.

I've added and stitched and trimmed and perfected my absolutely imperfect quilt and here in my mid-20s it's still a work in progress.  I hope to set an example for my daughters, show them how what you start with isn't what you have to end up with.  Show them how amazing you can make whatever you happen to be given.  I held on tightly to some pieces even if it meant repairing the bond again and again.  I find sometimes looking back at those pieces of my quilt can be the most precious.

And sometimes something even more rare and extraordinary is introduced that happens  to fit just right.

I've given my daughters the strongest piece of fabric to start with that I could possibly offer, but I look forward to seeing what they create on their own throughout life.  I hope they'll learn from the eclectic jumble of what I've crafted and feel free to incorporate all those important people that will come along in their life and not be afraid to call those who leave their mark "family" just as I am their family, just as their dad is their family.  I hope that we five stay strong and so in love that we build upon each other's quilts for the rest of our lives.  I'll teach them how to reinforce those stitches that heal all the rips and as they grow they'll keep adding pieces of who they become to add vibrance and richness to mine.

(www.jessicakruegerphotography.com)

My family, my gorgeous family, all of them, spread across the country, the state, the city.  Something I can be proud of.  Something I worked to make so wonderful, so resilient and so strong.  Stories woven into an intricate tapestry, a wordless epic tale of who I was, who I am and who I have yet to be, as defined by all the people I've been blessed to know.