So I made a category for posts called FAMILY for the purposes of anything I may write on this blog about mine. As I typed the word into the little box marked “Category”, I was typing the letters that represent the people I love, the people I call my relatives, the people I did not choose to know, some of whom know things about me, about my infancy, that I don’t even know about myself. Sadly, there aren’t many of them left, those who know about my infancy. I thought about the weightiness of that one word, those six letters, how such a small word can have such huge meaning. I thought about it in the way we all must at times, the good and the bad of it, but in that thinking I was consumed with the feeling of blessing, of gratitude, of simply belonging to one. Family. The word has more depth than most. Family equals a gift from God, including my husband whom (technically) I chose. My family is my past, my present, and my future. Among them are the ones whose hand I held when they first entered our world the same way as they will hold mine when I depart it, the repetition of generations. Weighty word.

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