The saying means that when push comes to shove, your family has your back. You know, on television shows it's the reason the big brother beats up all the bullies picking on his little sister. It's the reason that the cousin takes the fall when they all get busted. While I know the saying is true (that family should be their for each other) I have a bit of a problem because blood does not define a family, love does.
A few weeks back, I saw a little boy passed out on his father, exhausted from a long day of playing. The son had no hesitations as he nestled up closely to his dad, his head seeming to fit perfectly on his father's chest, and the dad had no trouble perfectly wrapping his arms around him and snuggling close. Just by seeing this, you could tell that this man loved his son more than anything, and that this son trusted his father as his hero. And as moving as the whole scene was (I may have teared up a little), perhaps the most incredible thing to me, was that they were not a father and son by blood, but by love.
It really got me thinking about the fact that you are not born into a family, but you become a part of one. For many people, the family that they are born into becomes the family that they grow into. But for some, their family becomes the people who surround them, love them, and support them, even when their "blood family" is long gone.
I feel so blessed to have been born into an amazing family, but I feel even more blessed to have been adopted into an equally incredible one. While we may be strangers by the "law," you would never be able to tell that by looking at a family picture. Seriously, don't we look pretty great?
When I tell people about my family, usually they are caught off guard by two things: 1) I have a different last name than my parents. 2) How much of an age difference there is between my sisters and I. More than once I have been innocently asked, "Are they your real sisters?" I know the question comes from pure motives, but it still cuts deep. How could they not be my real sisters? I rocked them when they were first born. I helped them learn to swim, run, bike and play. I've held their hands while they had their cuts bandaged.I yell the loudest at their games and cheer the longest at their successes. I've cried, prayed and laughed with them. To me the fact that I've done life with them, far outweighs the fact that we have different fathers.
As I've matured, I've come to realize more and more what family really is. I remember crying after my grandfather passed away, thinking about how hard it would be to fill the void that he left. It kind of shocked me when the thought crossed through my mind that he wasn't "technically" my grandfather. We shared no blood, and our family tree was likely not connected for centuries. Yet this man joked with me, spoiled me and cared for me. He came to get me when I called at 4 am and he assured me that the monsters under my bed wouldn't get me. He didn't "have" to love me, but he chose to make me a part of his life. He made me his family.
Over the years, I've been so blessed to be part of so many other incredible families. I've been welcomed into many different homes, churches and groups. I've shared meals, gone on adventures and on more than one occasion have embarrassed myself. I've been brought to movies, games and restaurant, but most importantly: I've been taken into many lives. You get to be a part of something incredible, where you laugh with the new family's kids, you swim with the cousins, and flip around with the grandkids. You share memories and funny stories, and no matter how long you are together for, you share love.
So while I was born into the Hobbs/Grivois family, I've become the part of so many more. I feel so blessed to not only be loved by my home family, but by my college family, my camp family, my church family, my best friend's family... and well the list could go on forever. You see family isn't the people you share blood with, it's the people you share life with.
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