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2016-04-05 08:12 pm (UTC)
Family used to mean "danger zone" and "place where I got hurt." I never used to understand why people would give two shits about their parent's sibling's child. It's just the luck of the draw, right? You are related by pure chance; why make such a big deal about it? I love my kids, but I don't love them because they're my kids. I love them because they're awesome human beings that I would want to have in my life anyway.
Then I began to find chosen families. Faire was the first big one, I think. My temple is another. And of course, my Joe and the several people who are my very, very close friends whom I'd lay down my life for.
A friend of mine introduced me to the concept of "mishpacha," or "family," in a different sense than I'd heard the word before. The idea is: I've got your back. I'll be there if things go south. You can count on me.
So today, the word "family" only means "chosen," and it means "the people for whom, if things go south for them, I'll be there to help in any way I can."
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Breakfast meat? Why choose?
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