Oy. I meant to post this like a week ago, but I’ve been in and out of the sickness all week. (Not sure what’s going down — just feeling weird and tired and quasi-depressed. I thought hormones, but now I’m congested, so who knows.)
Anyway, Chris and I mosied over to Tennessee this week to go see some friends, Susan and Marshall. It feels weird to call them “friends” when we really think of them as pseudo family. But that feels weird to say sometimes also because they are the parents of my ex-boyfriend, who’s still also my best friend. So there’s that.
It’s sometimes weird knowing how to explain them or how to justify their importance to me.
But here’s the thing: My family sucks. Pretty bad. My mother’s a drug addict and a rageaholic. My father’s dead, but he wasn’t much better. All of my grandparents are dead. Chris’ grandparents are also dead, as is his dad. The only grandparent that QP has is Chris’ mom, who is … special.
Not only does Quinn need family, but we need family. And we’ve adopted Susan and Marshall as our family. That was the case before we had Quinn, but we’re glad to have that relationship now, as well, knowing how it will also benefit her. They are just good people. They have been there for me in many ways over the years, and have offered a lot of support. Marshall even walked me down the aisle at my wedding. They’ve been a reliable and positive part of my life for almost 20 years. (Holy shit, has it been that long?) It’s all a LOT more than I can say about ANY of my blood relatives. You can’t choose the family you were born into, but you can damn sure choose who you will recognize as family, and that’s what I’m doing.
It’s not always easy for me to share my feelings with the people around me. (See: Drug-addicted, rage-fueled childhood.) My attempts to express those feelings end up being really awkward or a sputtering mess between tears. I end up saying “me, too” or “I feel the same” whenever people tell me how much they care about me instead of elaborating on it, and I’d much rather take the time to pick out a nice card that says what I feel than to say it myself or even write it myself. I even felt awkward calling Susan and Marshall “Grandma Sue” and “Pawpaw.” But despite all my emotional inadequacy and my bumbling attempts at intimacy, I’m glad that QP has a Grandma Sue and Pawpaw.