31 December 2012

Familial Love- Part 1

Wow.

Where has this year gone? It is hard to believe that I have been living here in Utah for 14 months. It is even harder to believe that it has already been 5 months since I last saw my parents and siblings and grandmas and aunts and cousins... and pets. 
But... how wonderful it is to be able to meet the end of the year and say that I am happy in spite of it all. I know that my family is well. My mother has lost over 30 lbs in the last few months. My little brother set an amazing example of self-possession and bearing such a heavy burden as having to testify in court against one who he once deemed friend. My youngest sister was able to get a kitten in place of one of the best house cats we have ever had who needed to be put down a few months prior to Christmas. 
I gather the rest of my family is happy, busy and content as well. What wonderful examples I have been given! 
I miss them but as it is sung, "God be with you til we meet again." And I believe He shall be. 

This evening brought a phone call to me. The start was shaky. I felt pangs in my heart but I have learned that all hope is not lost. So here I shall be, continuing to live my life as always but at least with something to look forward to. If nothing else, I see a wonderful friendship developing ahead of me and for those who know me best, I need friends. Especially out here in the frozen desert. Haha! How I loathe the snow and the enforced time inside doors so that I might be able to greet the spring with all my phalanges in tact and, yes, even my nose. 
As I spoke with my friend, I was reminded intensely of my love of family-- and not just my own although I will admit especially my own. As I spoke of my parents, I repeated how much I wished he could meet them just so I would not have to explain my love of them. Not because I do not wish to explain my love... I just seem to be unable to find the words encompassing enough of my feelings toward them. 
This past year I have learned quite a bit about my mother at the least and am thankful that they are my parents so that I may continue to learn about them and continue to get to know them. The sacrifices they have made for me and my siblings awe me and compel me to strive each day to be more deserving of their sacrifice of time and, more often than I would like to admit, patience with their first daughter. 
I am grateful that they had at least one child ahead of me, even a boy. I am especially grateful Jerry is a boy. Why? For the sake of self respect. Yes, yes. We fight... oftener when we lived together than we do now but there was no mistaking his love for me as his sister. He had learned this love from our parents and I think hardly a day passed when he would not reaffirm at the very least at the end of the day how much he loved and thought of me. 
This especially helped upon the entering into high school. Although I did not attract a lot of attention, it was enough to have my brother's hackles raised now and again in defense of my integrity. I laugh now to think of the times he defended my honor when I did not believe that he needed to.
I recall one such time when a boy from his grade was giving me a little extra attention and conversing with me. One conversation I had with this boy led to the topic of my dressing standard. Personally in high school I very much liked to dress to please no one but myself. I wore comfortable clothes even if from time to time they were a little over large on me. This boy, however, thought I might need a little advice on the topic and spoke in a rather beating-around-the-bush way thus: he informed me that if I were to wear clothing a little more conforming to the world's standard (perhaps a tank top from time to time or shorts now and again) that I would attract a lot more attention from the boys around me. What did this translate to in my mind? Merely that the boy was letting me know that there were at least a handful of guys, if not himself, that found me cute at the very least. I was flattered but assure you that I did not even consider the change of my dressing standard for the smallest moment. 
I found it entertaining and thus told my brother about the conversation. I was mortified at the time but now I laugh heartily. It was in the time of myspace and Jerry promptly logged on and told the boy off... with stronger language than I had ever seen my brother use in my defense. Fierce he was and although the boy "shrugged it off" I was never spoken to again by any such boy at the school. Respect or fear? I have no idea but who knew my second knight in shining armor (second only to my father) would be my older brother? 
I have never questioned their love for me. Thus, in this home of such strong and enveloping love, I never felt the need to throw myself in the paths of men during my high school years in hopes of filling the void that I am afraid too many young women are faced with in this day and age. How ungrateful I would be if I chose to forget this for one moment. 
I am also thankful for my younger brother. Another thing I admitted to my friend is my seeming reliance on the energy I get from hugs. Tommy always gave me hugs when I was home. I wish I would have taken the majority of them more willingly than I did because now I realize how much I looked forward to the time he would take to express his boundless love for me through his hugs. I am not going to lie, there were a few times when I thought he needed to buck up and be a man but... in hindsight if he would have been the boy I had thought he should try to be I would have lost even more sweet and tender moments with him. 
Not everyone gets the experience of having both an older and a younger brother and on top of that a father who is loving, kind, patient and takes an interest in their life. And for this, I have the utmost gratitude for.

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