the family away from home
It’s amazing how much of a time warp hanging out with friends can be. This past weekend, two close friends, Adam and Aurora, celebrated their wedding with an entire cross-section of people I’d known in my teens and twenties.
There was a time, back in the way-back, when a lot of people I hung out with were actually my family. Not that I didn’t have a genetic family, I did and still do, but some of the growing up that we do must happen away from the nest.
It happens with our chosen families.
You know who they are. The folks you’ve stuck with for years. The people you can go for months without seeing, but in ten minutes you’ve caught up and feel as comfortable with them as ever. They are the friends who’ve seen you at your worst and your best, the ones who are the best mirrors of you, and quite often, the people who helped define the “you” in you.
What can I say other than I’m blessed to have a precious handful of those people in my life.
I can look back in time and name at least a dozen people I once considered my friend, only to have the universe step in and smack me upside the head as if to say “heLLO foolio! Get your head out of your azz and recognize what’s up!” Thankfully none of them were present at the wedding. If they were, I’m sure I could have been pleasant. Or at least fake enough to seem pleasant.
Stories of our (get) high school escapades, my life in Rogers Park, the entire North Carolina crew, and echo’s of times both good and bad were rehashed over food and drink. But perhaps the best part wasn’t just reminiscing. It was cementing the bonds of existing friendships while making new ones.
See, in life, at least in mine, one of the best things about becoming tight with good people is that they generally know other good people. That’s the real social networking of my crowd. It isn’t born on Facebuuk or Twitttr, or on a website somewhere. It happens face to face, in real time.
How few and far between those moments seem to be.
Maybe at the top of the “I’m Glad I Saw” list were my other two mothers. The first is Aurora’s mom, the woman who opened my eyes wide to a world of healing and spirituality that I never knew existed. She helped me through some dark times, and I had the good fortune to be able to hold her hand through a bit of hers. I’m a better person because she was in my life. She had the happiest eyes of anyone this weekend.
The second is Avi’s mom, a lady who is headstrong, outspoken, and gloriously direct in her caring from the moment I met her. She watched every single move we made from just enough distance to allow us to make our own mistakes without hurting ourselves. She was cool enough to understand our teen-drama, mom enough to call us out on our shit when we needed it, and feed us well when necessary. I’m a better person because she was also in my life. Having the chance to hug her again reminded me that we need to see each other more often.
Both women, who can’t and won’t ever be compared to my own mother (two different worlds), helped me through many of those out-of-the-nest lessons. They were the right gift at the right time in life, and like the good friends around me, they helped complete my family away from home.
July 14th, 2009
This post is precious.