Memory Monday…It’s a thing.
I had another memory picked out to write about this week, but I’m going to hold on to that one for a little while. Since I’ve started doing Memory Monday, I also started a list in my journal of stories I could tell. Memories of my childhood pop into my head at random times and jotting them down seemed like the best way to remember them for posting later. My list has grown which is great. As I look over the list, I like that almost every single thing I jotted down involved time with another member of my family.
Recently, a few things have come up in my life. that while not done intentionally, made me feel as if others were dismissing me because I wasn’t a blood relative, married, or a biological parent. As an unmarried, childless by choice woman, I’ve often faced co-workers and bosses that felt I should have the less desirable shifts, work weekends, work holidays, and be available at a moments notice. There seems to be a perception that I’m sitting around with giant voids in my life that can only be filled by working until I’m lucky enough to get married and pop out a few kids to fill those giant voids.
Well, I call bullshit on all that. As I look at my list of stories I can share for Memory Monday, the reason for calling bullshit is clear. I have a family. It might not be the same as your family, but I have a family that I love.
I have a mother, step-father, sister, step-brother, step-sister, a niece, two nephews, aunts, uncles, a whole bunch of cousins, friends that have been in my life so long I’m closer to them than I am some blood relatives, a boyfriend, and my boyfriend’s son. There are older family members that might not be here next Christmas. There are babies that are just having their first holidays with us. There are cousins that live 3000 miles away that visit.
I remember summers of catching lightening bugs, playing in the hills, riding bikes, and my Granny watching us all. We had a family reunion over Memorial Day Weekend and seeing some of my cousins was a blast. Some of them have their own kids or grandkids that I don’t know very well and to hear comments like “My daughter reminds me of you.” made me smile the entire weekend. There were so many common threads in interests and experiences; I felt like I was part of something…a family.