What else did you expect?
There is no better feeling than being a part of a family. Even on days when I'm frustrated or angry, I wouldn't give up my family for anything.I'm not just talking about my husband and kids, although, I love them more than anything and anyone in the world and they are the center of my world. I'm also talking about my whole extended family.
Interesting detail. I'm the oldest of seven biological siblings. I have two sisters and four brothers, and since my parents are divorced and both remarried, I also have four step-siblings. Both sisters and one brother are all married with kids--a total of five. Then my husband is one of the youngest of five. All married, all with three or more kids.
And that's just the beginning. Add in aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents--well, I have one large family. You can imagine how overwhelming family gatherings can be on this level. But it's also wonderful, and fun, and there is so much love there.
Case in point. I had my very first book launch party in December. We held it at a local Barnes and Noble, and spent quite a lot of time spreading the word. (Hm. I think I blogged about this earlier.) Anyway, even though I'd been spreading the word, I really had no idea that everyone--I mean EVERYONE--in my family was coming. We had at least a hundred people that night. Easily. And they were there for me. To support me. To buy my book. To show their love.
I had family there from both Hawaii and France (coincidental timing, I hope) as well as Southern Utah and Northern Utah. People drove for hours to get there. For me.It's not just impressive, it's touching. I love them.
And my girls, the ones I mentioned last week. I love having them in my life. In many ways, they're family too, even though we aren't related by blood.
And then there's my little family. My husband--who bought me sterling silver fairy earrings for Valentine's Day--and my children, who, with their father, are the best part of my life. Every night before he goes to bed, my nine-year-old climbs up on my bed and calls me to come sit with him for a nightly snuggle. He calls me Love. My twelve-year-old daughter will text me at random during the day, just to say hi and tell me she loves me. My fourteen-year-old daughter raids my closet and borrows my makeup and hair supplies--right before she puts on her tie-die shirt and mismatched socks to go play soccer. When I walk in the door from being gone, my sixteen-year-old son puts his arm around me and tells me he loves me. Every day. Just because it's true.
And as I write this blog, I can hear my husband doing the dishes downstairs so I don't have to. And in a little while, he'll bring me a drink so I don't have to go down and get it myself. That's real love.
There's something so special about being part of a family. And I'm sorry if I've gushed a bit, but it's Valentine's Day, so I figure I'm entitled.
Today's the day. Go call the important people in your life, your family--be they blood related or just bonded by love--and tell them how much you love them. Today you have a good excuse. Well, you know, if you think you need one. Which you shouldn't.
Happy Valentines Day, everyone!