Mountains and Oceans and Winters and Rivers and Stars

"Funny the Way it Is," Dave Matthews Band

Call it a clan, 

call it a network, 

call it a tribe, 

call it a family.  

Whatever you call it, 

whoever you are, 

you need one.  

~Jane Howard

"Your first Thanksgiving as a married couple! Choices, choices...did you spend it with his parents or with your parents?" 

I was asked this question Tuesday, back to school from a long and relaxing break. My response was quick, somewhat robotic, halted: "Actually, both...We were in Santa Barbara with my family, and his family came up." Really, it was a half-truth: Yes, we were in Santa Barbara, but it wasn't all of Tim's parents that came up, but rather his dad and step-mom. His mom and step-dad weren't there. And my dad wasn't there. And my answer left me questioning why I answered the way I did. Was it too much of a hassle to explain the entire scenario, or was I ashamed? Was I embarrassed to admit both my and Tim's lives, from a glance, are far from Leave it To Beaver; intertwined with step-families and sometimes heart-breaking choices regarding where to spend holidays? Was I frustrated by my inability to answer the aforementioned question with a simple "my parents' house" or "his parent's house?" because our families' lives just don't fit into a quick and simple response? It was a question I thought about at multiple junctures throughout the rest of the day, and a variety of potential answers and excuses arose. But through all of it, my mind was nagged by a consistent and real truth: While Tim and I, technically, are  "products of divorce," the phrase hardly covers the way I define my upbringing and my family. My mom and dad are incredible people; unique, undefinable, supportive, passionate. With the exception of a few (unavoidable) frustration-filled and angst-ridden years in high school, I have always held both of my parents in the highest regard. They've been my biggest fans and my staunchest supporters for as long as I can remember. Together or apart, they put their differences aside in the name of my brother and I. Meanwhile, my step-dad entered my life once I was out of high school. At 19, I was a full-time know-it-all and constant-questioner-of-authority, and my poor step-dad had his work cut out for him when it came to forging a relationship with me. And yet, he steadfastly held to the notion my mother was a package deal; in order to find true happiness with her, his relationships with both my brother and I needed to be truthful, full, and independent of her. Because of that, our connection is positive, meaningful, and real today.


And so this Thanksgiving, while of course I'm thankful for Tim, his family, our friends, our health, our dog, and our happiness in general, I'm especially thankful for:


My dad and my brother, who manage to make me laugh, challenge my wit, and drive me crazy; sometimes all at once:

My mom and my step-dad, who taught (continue to) teach me what it takes to build a friendship and a love into a marriage and a life: 

And my step-sisters and step-brother, who have showed me siblings don't have to be blood-related:

The family - that dear octopus from whose tentacles we never quite escape, nor, in our inmost hearts, ever quite wish to.   

~Dodie Smith