Family Reunion

As you might know, I have issues with the institution known as the ‘family’. Based on my past and the past of my family, it has always manifested itself as pejorative instead of ameliorative. I have always tried to forge my own definition in opposition to what I grew up with and saw. I can’t say I have been entirely successful but I keep forging ahead.

My husband is very family-oriented which is tricky because his concept of family is very different than mine. For him, family can do no harm. They are your support system and who you turn to when you need help. In theory, I agree with this and accept it. It hasn’t completely been this way for me; I wish I had more experiences to foster that same understanding in myself. I often look for support outside my family. I’ve created an infrastructure of good friends and one or two family members to whom I turn when I need advice or have a problem.

Given this information family reunions are comparatively different for both of us. I barely have family reunions. I think I only see cousins when someone is in the hospital or when there is a funeral. On occasion I might catch up with people at weddings. With the exception of one cousin, I rarely see my paternal cousins. My maternal cousins are in Italy. And even there, I only communicate extensively with one of them. Although I do talk often to one of my aunts.

My husband on the other hand, talks to his cousins frequently via email or on Facebook. And whenever we return to Mexico, we see most of his maternal cousins. This time around I finally got to meet some of his paternal cousins. And it was bittersweet. It’s nice to see people so happy to see each other - for a big family to sit around a table and make fun of each other in a nostalgic way. The infecting sound of laughter after the retelling of stories and remembrances of common moments where everyone had fun. No moments of dejection where the maliciousness of mistakes are retold to feel superior to those around you. No jumping down each other’s throats when people disagree with opinions.

The warmth I felt in their midst is something that I never feel with my extended family. I can only replicate that warmth with my dogs, my sister and my friends. I suppose ‘family’ is what you make of it. I choose my family while my husband has one.