Sometimes, I forget how lucky I am to be a part of a family that gets along. It seems like such a simple and normal concept, and it’s not something I think of often (because it’s always been a given), but tonight, I was painfully reminded of just how fortunate I am.
How many people can say that they spend every Sunday night visiting with their parents? And not because they are forced to, but because they want to.
How many people willingly go on trips, all over the world, with their siblings? And not because it’s a convenient option, but because there’s genuine companionship and enjoyment of each other’s company.
And how many people know that, no matter what challenges life brings their way, their family will be there to love and support them unconditionally?
No, my family is not perfect. I’m pretty sure such a thing does not exist. But at the end of the day, I can say with complete honesty that we respect one another. And that there is no dispute more important than keeping us together.
I hope ten years down the road when my parents are starting to get older, my sisters are continuing to build their careers and families and I’m heading off in my own direction with my husband, that my family will still remain as close.
Not necessarily by physical distance, but by the type of bond that is near impossible to break.