familiarity...

Today is the Feast of the Holy Family. I know people who get caught up in the fact that Jesus in the Temple at the age of 12 did not happen in the winter, or near his birthday, and even that his birthday was not in the winter at all. I say big deal; worry more about the point than the timing. The point of Christmas is that Jesus was born. The point of his Temple visit is that he was there, and he was teaching. A child shall lead them. (A quote from Isaiah that some could say is completely out of context. I say many quotes are. At any rate, here he was, a kid -- my own kid is 12 -- sitting around with the rabbis, teaching them. All I can say is, "Wow.")

More than anything today -- partly because of the homily at Mass, and partly because the Holy Family statue in our church helped me through many, many Sundays as a new mother -- I am thankful for the blessing that is my family. Not just the family that lives in my house, but also the family that is related to me by blood, by heart, and by choice. Some of them make me crazier than others, and some are great to act crazy with, but all of them mean more to me than I could ever say. More than I will ever attempt to say. Some would never believe the feelings I have for them; some would be embarrassed. All are in my life for a reason, whether I have learned it yet or not. Some know more about me than others, and some think they know more than they do. All of them help me to continue to learn things about myself, my past, my future, my goals, hopes, dreams. Some I talk to more than others, and some I may never see or hear from again; yet each and every one is indelibly in my heart, tattooed there permanently, whether I (or they) like it or not.

I'm grateful, thankful, and sometimes overwhelmed to have the family I do. Sometimes supportive, sometimes combative; sometimes adjacent, not always adjoining, and at times downright detached.

Always family.

Family.

Thank God.