someone else's family

I went to a party, a Blessing Way, on Sunday.  A Blessing Way is how hippies have baby showers, and to tell you the truth, I'm seriously considering becoming a hippy now.  

Well, maybe.

It is fascinating to observe family dynamics, especially now that I'm starting to be able to clearly see the workings of my own family.  It's especially fascinating to be in the company of a family whose sole function in this world is to build each other up.  

They love and they cherish; they respect.  They parent all of the children equally and fairly. There were no ulterior motives, no hidden agendas, no passive-aggressive anythings.

They came together from far away places, and I would very much like to give you a cooking metaphor about how they all just fit like vegetable soup but that would be too simple and too trite, and maybe I'm just hungry, and it's not at all in need of a cooking metaphor.  

But they really are like a good vegetable soup.

I don't know if I've ever been to a family gathering where everybody liked each other and wanted to be there.  I don't know if I've ever been to a family gathering where everybody was sober, and even as I type this I can hear Mother in my head saying, For Lord's sake, we're not drunks.  (Yes.  Yes you are.)

Even the teasing was different.  In my family, teasing was a brutal, hideous weapon.  Teasing was not for fun, it was for sport, and it did not stop until long after the object of derision was in tears.  Watching this family tease and joke was like watching fairies play tag; light, twinkle-eyed, graceful and delicate.

The best part?  They like us. They like me, my husband, my little ones, all of us, just as we are.  And that is home.