What does family mean to you?
Now that we're all adults, having survived adolescence and the hurdles of young-adulthood (whatever that brand of chaos happened to be), I think it's fair to assume that most, if not all of you know who your family is. And, I think it is equally fair to say that you know what I mean by family. Because, you see, there's family...and then there's family.
Mine has found me piece by piece, and formed itself above, below and around me, beyond my control. All these wonderful people, buzzing about, forming patterns and hives around my head, have all landed squarely in front of me and claimed me as their own.
And I'm so stupidly lucky.
A long(ish) time ago, I wrote something about family trees. And I said that if a family were a tree, then I had always felt like a lone little leaf, floating on the wind, swinging back and forth toward the ground; only briefly a part of the tree, yet not fully landed either.
Well.
As it turns out, life gives you abundant trees if you know where to look. And it's hard not to look in the right places when trees are springing out of the ground practically underneath you as you walk.
And sometimes, a really big tree will show up on the horizon. And it'll have a deep and strong root system. And a beautiful canopy of leaves and shade and love and twirling wind. And it'll catch you, the lone leaf on the breeze, and set you down on one of the branches. And there you'll be.
This is M2.
She's my mother-in-law, but I hate that term because to me, it's a verbal eye-roll... 'She's my mother IN LAW. Like, we're not REALLY related..' So, I've named her Mom 2. Or, M2 for short.
She's my tree.
And she has the best laugh in the entire world. I'd bet on it.
