More rambly than I intended, but oh well.

I was carting my dad around today, doing a variety of errands. I went grocery shopping for him at Wal Mart before I drove over to his apartment. It took an entire hour to get everything and actually get out the door and back to my car. I hate shopping there, not so much because it's Wal Mart, but because of the atmosphere; that crazy, busy, chaotic vibe drives me up the wall. Like I want to run to the nearest fitting room and lock myself in it, just to get some peace. But it amuses me the little things that make you smile, and grants you a bit of sanity (or insanity, whichever the case may be) in order to maintain that precious bit of happiness. I don't really know what it is about me, but when I'm in that centered space, open and friendly, that's exactly what I get back. It's reminiscent of when I worked in retail. If I could consciously make the decision to be upbeat, it was infectious.

Anyway.

I was contemplating my relationships with the people who are living, and that how I maintain those bonds greatly impacts who I am. One of my biggest challenges is letting go, since I seem to obsess so much over small details, or that one conversation, or that one incident. Do I give that person a second chance? This person is family, how should I respond when rifts develop in the relationship? Is it really important?

Many people who I consider to be my family are not blood relatives. The notion of building Queer Families has been a foundation for my idea of what family is, and because of my personal history, I have an... unusual understanding of what it means to build and have a family. This is probably why I had such an easy time with my parents' divorce. Regardless, because of this idea, I don't typically feel that blood-relative loyalty to everyone in my family of origin. Therefore it's not so clear cut (at least in a conventional manner) for who I choose to let go of and what bonds I feel are worth fighting for.
But my parents are two family members I obviously cannot choose so easily, and I'm in a remarkably lucky situation where I don't need to choose. It seems in this day and age unconditional love from your parents is no longer a given, and I consider myself one of the lucky few to have two very loving parents who are willing to go the extra mile for me. My relationship with my father has perhaps not been as traditional as some daughters have, and I think some pity me for it. For a variety of reasons I am better able to interact with him on a peer level, not so much an emotional one.

I was reminded today of how lucky I am, while driving him around from place to place, sitting in a too hot car for longer than I thought I would, and having to remind myself that someone who just had knee surgery is of course going to move a lot slower than usual. I was reminded of how much my dad was willing to do for me and how much it bothers him that he can't provide as much as he wants to. I think it's so rare nowadays, that kind of unconditional love, and how can I brush it aside when there are so many people I know who don't get that from their parents. Not because they're “bad” kids, but because their parents don't understand them; maybe it's one key thing about who they are that their parents deem morally wrong, or at least is unacceptable. Some endure emotional or physical abuse. Some may go through their whole lives never knowing if their parents really loved them. Knowing that I will never have to question that about my own brings me to tears. It just reminds me of what I want to be able to give to the world, if not just one person at a time.

If I learn anything in this lifetime, I hope it's how blessed I was in knowing the people I've known, and who really mattered the most.