If the word ‘FAMILY’ was matter it would be a gas. Not confined to any particular space. Drifting, coming and going. It’s inside out, upside down, one from another. In reality and becoming ever more so in the world today, ‘FAMILY’ is an idea. It isn’t constricted by bloodlines and it doesn’t matter if water is thinner.
Family can’t have a single definition or it would contradict itself someway. Go ahead, try. Family depends on who you are and how skewered you allow meanings to get, it depends on who makes their love felt to you, it depends on if you consider yourself part of a tribe or not.
I have this note journal and I use it to scribble ideas, to sketch places in my mind, to make lists. Sometimes I just take a pen and sit with it and see what comes. Yesterday was ‘family.’
My mind wondered as I thought about who I included in my family, how there was not a common drop of blood shared between some of the people that I consider family and others of the same linage who I’ve lived thus far without. I thought about how it bothered me and about how it didn’t. How sometimes it feels like the only family that we have is ourselves. How family interacts and it doesn’t seem like family, how we appreciate our family or disregard them, how we shame our family, how we are protected by our family. How we love, our family.
I didn’t get very far with it yesterday but I was drawn to it again today so I decided to finish it. I don’t know if this counts as a poem, if it does please fill me in on the type.
I hope something from this resonates with you or starts a conversation in your head. Maybe. The ‘i’s are initially coincidental, then intentional. There is a common thread that flows through things even if they are different. There is your common thread.