Family

I have lived outside my parents' home longer than I lived at home, which is strange when I really sit and think about it. Being a child in my parents' home is still so present in my mind--I still recall certain sounds, smells and tastes that are singular to my home, but it really has been such a long time (19 years). Although I have fond memories of being home with my family, I experienced heartache as well. At the time, I thought life could never be harder than it was then, but life is just hard. Period. It certainly is a different hard, but it is hard nonetheless. My heartaches now are so much different and usually self-inflicted these days.

I left home at 17 and never moved home. Of course, I visited from college, but it was different. Growing up, my relationship with my siblings was complicated. We are very different people in one very strong-willed family. Most days, our wills did not match up and we would call my mom or dad at work constantly to complain about each other. I thought we'd grow out of those differences with time, but we haven't. Living away from each other hasn't made it easier for us to understand each other. We often see what we see through one lens, but that lens isn't always in focus, even if we don't realize that. We want the very best for each other; I absolutely believe that, but we come across wrong a lot. And so we fight nearly every time we are together.

It was the same with this last visit. We mostly did fine, smiling awkwardly at each other as we do or nodding politely just to get through a conversations, but there were bumps and a couple bruises, and by the time everyone left, I sat at home and cried. I cried for myself. I cried for my siblings. I cried for my parents. I actually couldn't get myself to cry alone so I turned on a sad movie, and 20 minutes into the movie I sat on my couch letting the tears flow. Sometimes we have to cry. We just have to let ourselves feel all the aches.

Once I cried my eyes tearless, I decided that no matter what I would try to refocus that blurry lens and try to love my family for everything they are and everything they are not. I am finally old enough to admit--as sad as it really is--that we will never be great friends together. I may be able to strengthen specific relationships, but as a whole unit, we will always be fragile. We will always be tiptoeing. And that used to bother me, but it doesn't anymore. Tiptoeing can still get us somewhere. Standing still does nothing. So I'll do what I can do, and I know my siblings will as well. And that's the best we can do.