Some people say family is the other “f” word. I’m glad I don’t feel that way. Family to me is connection, history, and meaning––as well as love and belonging.
I grew up with my mother’s large family, with seven aunts and two uncles and 20 first cousins, and on stories and laughter usually shared on my grandmother’s wraparound porch. She was “Miss Lillie” to anyone who did not call her Mama or Granny and we all gathered there, especially on Sundays and holidays. My aunts could get tickled over the silliest things, and we would laugh until we were crying and not even know why. I was the youngest and an only child, and I loved nothing more than those times. Granny died at 92 when I was 14.
My two closest cousins have remained like sisters to me. I don’t know what I would have done without them. Still every Thanksgiving the three of us gather with our families and it is a cherished time.
Recently I read an article about a 114-year-old woman who died earlier this year. Her doctor said she didn’t have any extreme diet, exercise, or supplement routines. “She was an example of the theory that strong social relationships boost longevity, as research suggests,” he said.
Such is the importance of family––and friends.
Friends have been like family to me, as I imagine you may have experienced, too. One friend I have known since I was three, and we have memories no one else can share. Others have come at points in my life and stayed, whether for a few years or 50.
Many people come from families where there is dysfunction. They find family in close, trusted groups where bonds are healthier and stronger than biological ones.
I never wanted to have an only child, and now my daughter is one. I am grateful for her four girlfriends since college who are as bonded as sisters and whom my granddaughters call aunts.
In a couple of weeks, I get to participate in a gathering of two families and friends coming together to bless a relationship. I cannot wait! I hope for a lot more porch-sitting in the years ahead.

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