[DISCLAIMER: This post may be slightly pointless and not really help anybody out there--not that any of mine do, really--but I needed to talk, and that's what this blog is for. Read at your own risk, I guess?]
From the time we're little, we're taught to put ourselves in a good environment, with people that uplift and support us, and make us better people. I have been very very blessed in this respect, and I am very aware of how lucky I am.
I have parents that support me in everything I do, whether it's another crazy hair-dye job, a confusing class schedule, or a spur of the moment trip home just to grab a snowboard. They never question me, and always make sure I'm aware that I can make decisions by myself and that they'll support me in everything I do.
I have five younger siblings who look up to me, and make me a better person everyday. Brittany pushes me to do my best, Ryan looks to me for music suggestions, Emily asks for book recommendations, and Aubrey and Mary would follow me anywhere I ask them to go (as long as they got Zupa's or Dum-Dums out of the deal.)
My five roommates listen to every complaint I have about anything, and always have advice for me. They wait up for me from work, even on my crazy weekend shifts, and never fail to make me smile on a hard day.
I have the three best boy-friends a girl could ever ask for. They change my tires, buy me ice cream, and stop by for random visits to make sure I'm doing okay.
Add these to the many, many, many other people in my life that keep me sane, make me smile, and never cease to make me try harder, and you can guarantee that I'm a very lucky girl.
That said, I have also been....blessed...with some people in my life that serve mainly as trials. Long story short, it's been nearly ten years since I had any kind of face-to-face communication with one set of my grandparents, and the aunts, uncles, and cousins involved on that side. Other than random, completely coincidental (or accidental, you could say) interactions, there has been nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nada.
It's not fun to grow up without grandparents. [Don't get me wrong, my other grandparents are angels. Literally, the best people alive.] Picture this: you're nine years old, and suddenly, there's no contact with one set of grandparents. Then, you're fifteen, and you're grandma passes away. It physically hurt every day to know that I didn't have a full set of grandparents out there, and that the one grandma you did have left was gone. Then, try explaining that to a three-year-old and a five-year-old. It doesn't work.
Thankfully, my grandpa found Jo, and the position of grandma has been filled--and I can't express how grateful I am for that.
But, it still hurts. To know that less than five miles away from my apartment, I have a set of grandparents that haven't had contact with my family in almost a decade. This year, they will have missed more birthday's than they've made. They missed my first date, my first dance, and my first day of high school. They missed me crossing the finish line for my third Ragnar, walking across the stage for my high school graduation, and didn't hear me speak at Seminary graduation. They'll miss my wedding. My kids. And so many other milestones that I can't even begin to count.
For a long time, I was really bitter about the situation, to the point that I was angry and mad at them for everything they missed. But now, through lots of talking it out, and tons of time spent on my knees asking for any way to be even mildly OK with the situation, I've come to terms with it. It still hurts, but I've moved on.
So imagine my surprise today, when taking a table's order, I look up and see my aunt. The one whom I haven't spoken to since I was ten years old. After informing my manager that I needed to call my parents, PRONTO, I took their advice and said hello.
"I don't know if you recognize me..."
"I do. You're Ashley."
"Well, uhhh, it's been a long time. It's nice to see you!"
"Yeah, good to see you."
And that was that. Even as I walked away, I knew that nothing was going to change because I'd said hello. But for the first time in years, I was content that I'd done what I needed to, and there was nothing else I could have done. Because family isn't just the people who you share a gene pool with, or the people who have the same blood as you do.
They're the people you call at 3 a.m. because you can't sleep. The ones that know you well enough to know you're not OK even though you say you are. The ones that cook your favorite meals when you come home, or have a carton of orange juice for you to take back up to school with you. The ones who spend hours fixing your car...and aren't too mad when it still doesn't work. The ones who can make you laugh when you don't even want to smile. The ones who would do anything for you, and you'd do exactly the same.
And in those terms? My family is huge. And I'm so lucky.
