My real life family sort of sucks. And by sort of I mean definitely. And a bunch. In fact 'sort of that means definitely' so much that after years and years of trying to repair things after a particularly ridiculous argument that involved me being kicked out of the house as a teen (for reals I was an awesome kid and did nothing wrong) and many years before that filled with an alcoholic and, quite likely, bi-polar mother I realized that as many times as I'd been convinced things could get better I'd also been disappointed. And once I made that realization I decided to move on from the emotional equivalent of watching the Twilight movies. I was putting a whole lot in and not getting anything out of it other than headaches and the distinct impression that none of this was ever going to make any sense.
And now I have a new family. We don't share DNA and I'll never have their nose or eyes but they are so the people who I was meant to spend holidays with and come to when I need guidance and nothing makes me happier than being home with them and helping the girls pack for a trip or helping the woman I think of as my mom and one of my closest friends clean the kitchen after dinner because that's what families do.
After a rough couple weeks and a draining day yesterday I text my "mom" (let's call her S) asking if I could see them soon. Within five minutes I had a call from the littlest munchkin asking me to come over for lunch this weekend. And I happily agreed.
What I thought would be an hour or so visit turned into a nearly five hour one. When I was leaving S said "I hope this felt good for your soul." and that's exactly what it did, fed my soul.