At Least They're Committed

You have family and you have friends, it’s that cut and dry, right? Nah. I’ve come to realize that family has as much to do with bonds as blood. I have a beautiful family in blood — my sons check on me constantly to make sure I’m comfortable and safe as I heal, D is strict about every move I make to ensure I do things right, Bugaboo is protective, more like a mom to me than I am to her. My

mom and/or dad text or call at least once a day and have since the morning of my surgery; my brother does so a couple of times a week. Mom spent more than a week here doting on me and my sister is still hoping to make it over early next month to provide me company and some good family chatter.

A couple of Mondays ago as I lay propped on pillows my bedroom was stuffed with 11 people as, first, my beautiful niece Holly and her dashing husband Eric stopped by while in town from Utah. In followed Jen, the girls, DS, Bugaboo, Dez, D, Mom . . . an impromptu family celebration. I thought afterward that I should have had some sort of guest book so I can remember everyone and their kindness. Instead, I’m going to make a little book — complete with drawings — of these past weeks.

But there are other types of family. Often the most unlikely configuration of family, the kind that God brings together. I always recall the line in “Twins” when Arnold  Schwarzenegger’s and Danny Devito’s birth mom realizes they are her sons and had not died at birth as she’d been told. She stands there holding a teddy bear and tearfully says, “You found each other.”

The lovely ladies in this photo and I found each other, as if while walking through our own personal brand of hell we saw glimpses of another soul and then another and another and as we kept walking we grabbed a hand for each, guiding one another until we found a stony but sacred ground: a new family and a united strength.

Micheline — who we were celebrating this night as she prepares to move to Montrose — worked there first. There were five in our department, but before long there were two doing the work of five. And we carried on and worked nights and weekends and I cried some nights because I was exhausted and the next day we would drag onward, sometimes stopping for a moment or a night and promising we’d take the night off, knowing that if we committed to each other we would honor our promise.

Months later came Danielle, who helped bring in Charlotte who brought in Deanna. It was heaven, harmony in it’s most lovely sense, each instrument playing to its strength, to its tune perfectly. We were supportive, sharing, organized and the quirkiest group of gals you can imagine.  Our work situation didn’t last — nothing that good ever seems to — but we sure as hell did.

This night, Micheline’s farewell, was my first venture out other than to doctors appointments since my surgery, but there was no doubt I’d be there. The ladies arranged to have it at Charlotte’s because she has a ramp and access for someone in my condition. I lasted an hour and a half is all, before I had to take my leave. I texted D, who bless his heart weathered stock show, sporting events and lane closures to drive me there and then hung out at an Italian restaurant nearby waiting for word to come get me, and it was he who took this photo. It’s a lovely photo of all, despite the weariness on my face. And it was a beautiful time for all, filled with love and laughter and excitement and hope.

Spring is around the corner, only four more weeks til I can drive. You can bet we’ll be taking some girls trips soon to the Western Slope, top down on my Sebring, to visit — by bond and by blood — my family.