I found out my father was going to remarry at a time in the not-so-distant future two days after I lost my mother.
The two events were completely unrelated and although the timing of this relevation was inopportune, I encountered a strange sense of not only acceptance but also happiness, even relief, in the announcement.
The sensation was almost alarmingly bizarre and quite frankly, didn’t feel correct. Only two suns had risen since the death of my mother in a culminating event from three years of insurmountable frustration and sadness and here I was, facing the probability of having a new mother figure and family to accept. And I was happy about it. I remember sitting on a couch, engulfed in despair, yet my opinion on the matter was serene. I could not pinpoint why. It didn’t seem like anything to ponder at a time of intense pondering. I didn’t even give it really any thought. Everything about it made sense.
Fast-forward a little over a year from the revelation. That same sense of ease, of happiness, has been exponentially increased. In a year filled with periods of recessed darkness, my (at the time) father’s fiance’s family, newcomers to my life, served as one of two lighthouses to guide my path through the gloom (Suzanne and her family being the second) and without whom I cannot fathom to imagine this tumultuous year.
In this year, I have gained a true motherly figure in Donna, whose compassion and kindness pervades her every action. She somehow puts up with my father’s sometimes embarrassing (but mostly endearing) antics.
There has never been an odd moment between us, never a lack of respect for one another. Our relationship is natural, nothing forced and nothing peculiar. There are no eggshells to be tread. She has accepted my phobia of phone calls (in general…ask my friends about it as they are just as annoyed by it probably) and lifestyle at a faraway locale yet still I feel as if we haven’t missed a beat. For that, I am extremely thankful.
I have gained a sister in Rheonna. Technically, a step-sister, but our relationship doesn’t feel a step away from the real thing. Both being only children, the way our bond was immediately forged and strengthened has been beyond anything articulated in this blog or by my typical over-verbose, over-detailed vocal style can begin to describe adequately. I think to myself daily, “I have a sister.” And it’s amazing.
I have gained a brother-in-law in Matt, whose tendencies to be overly polite to strangers at the risk of an argument with his family and desire to not ruffle feathers very eerily match my own in a way that I wonder how we are not actually brothers ourselves.
I have gained a niece in Brooke who I absolutely adore and respect for her maturity and confidence, a niece in Ava who at 3 years of age refers to me as her “boyfriend” and is also subsequently too young to understand a worn out and probably misplaced “Well, this is Kentucky after all…” joke, a nephew in 9 year Parker who is the spitting image of his brilliant father in terms of the understanding of science, and a nephew in 2-year-old Brayden, who has no idea who I am but insists on slapping my leg in enthusiasm. I have also gained several other members of the White and Johnson families who have welcomed me with open arms.
My father is the happiest I can remember seeing him in my entire life. He needed this. I needed this. I have a penchant for hyperbole, I know that well, but I honestly cannot believe the attachment I have to my new family after only a year. I can’t even separate within my own memories times before this family entered my life a whole year ago. It’s as if they have always been there.
That initial acceptance that I could not pinpoint was a destiny of a mantra: everything in its right place.
*The wedding was not held within the structure in the accompanying church photo but the sentiment endures and, honestly, the leaves on the trees were just amazingly picturesque.*
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