Family Shows Up

Some families are small. Some have so many cousins you need a roster. Some we’re born into, others we make for ourselves.

Families come together for dinners on Friday nights, for football on Sundays, for Church, for recitals, baby showers, weddings, graduations, and death. Families fill in all the forgettable moments between—all the phone calls, the 11 pm airport pick-ups, that day you wore your brother’s shoes, and that time you ran into your mom at the store across town.

Families are almost like mini-tribes of people—with their own traditions, unique brands of comedic timing, and particular styles of fighting and making-up. They count on each other during hard times. They celebrate the good times. Sometimes they just show up to waste time.

Families look different and feel different depending on the language you speak, the food you eat, and the way they make you feel. But, if you’re so lucky to have a family (or a few families), you might feel like you’re glued to these people, bound to them so many times over they become rooted to your existence as an individual. They shape you, advise you, hurt you, love you. And you—you are a root to all of their existences, too.

So, what is that thing that binds families together?

For some, it’s blood.

For a very long time, and even still, that’s been the definition of family. You’re born and raised by your parents and their family lines, and one day you become parents to the next iteration of your family line. And, in the absence of war or displacement, you probably start your own family nearby the family you grew up in. Strong families, for many, are these tight-knit communities that expand across one city or village. This is why, historically, pro-creating the next generation was so important. You not only guaranteed lineage, you produced a community to count on, people to trust.

Many of us don’t live in the same cities or villages that our extended families call home.

Sometimes, a whole household moves across a border at the chance for more opportunities. Sometimes, households break-up at the onset of war or instability. Sometimes, parents get divorced, and one of them moves to the beach. Sometimes, a child goes to school across the country and decides to stay.

Does our blood still bind us, even when we’re far apart? Without Friday night dinners, without football on Sundays—is the blood that binds us strong enough? When families don’t live in the same places, are they any less of a mini-tribe?

We have our phones—so there’s FaceTime and Instagram and all these digital interfaces to keep us connected. What’s the difference if you call your mom from down the street or across a few time zones? We have “you-can’t-miss-it” events like weddings and vacations, and funerals, where you come together and maybe even cherish that time more because it’s precious. What does it matter where you live if you still show up for the events where everyone takes photos?

What you do miss are those in-between, forgettable moments that keep the family binding tight. Perhaps long-distance families are not any less close-knit, but it does mean they have to try harder to stay connected. You can’t count on your long-distance son to pick you up if your car breaks down, or on a long-distance sister to take you shopping for your date tomorrow night. You find someone else, maybe another family member, maybe a friend.

For some, family is chosen.

Whether you’ve stayed or moved away, sometimes you’ll meet people who become part of your family because you’ve chosen them too. Our chosen families include loyal neighbors, life-long friends, the parents of our children’s friends, or the friends of our parents. They are the people we work with, the people we party with, the people we heal with, the people who keep showing up over and over and over again.

If you’re lucky to have chosen family, you understand that they are just as loyal, just as permanent, just as loving — sometimes more loving — than our blood families. And these relationships, though not grounded in ancestry or cultural lineage, are sometimes the ones we fall back on when we can’t fall back on our familial ones.

So, what binds chosen family, if not blood?

I think it’s the same thing that binds all families. It’s shared memories. Shared laughter. Going through pain together. Experiencing joy side-by-side. When we share experiences with people, we develop trust, and, as that grows, it turns to love.

Sometimes, that love fades. Families do change, and that’s part of it.

So, here’s what I think. Family is the people you show up for and the people who show up for you. We live in fast-paced times — with jobs that take us across oceans, romances that cross borders — and family dynamics are only going to get more complicated. But what isn’t complicated is knowing — in your heart —who you’ll call when you’re sad, when you’re happy, or when you’re just bored.

Those people, that’s family.