Family

    C and I have been asked to speak at Sacrament meeting on Sunday. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the way worship services are conducted at The Church Of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I'll explain. Sacrament meeting is the time when the Sacrament, which is known as Communion or The Eucharist in other churches is passed. Announcements are made about church events. Callings and releases are done at this time as well. Hymns are sung and people give talks. The speakers are asked by the Bishop or one of his Councilors and are given a topic.
  I was pretty sure I was safe from any such invitations. I'm certain Bishop Nealy said that he wanted to ask people who had not spoken in a very long time or those that didn't really like or want to speak. Since I did speak less than five years ago at the request of President Campbell, who was bishop at the time, and I don't mind speaking, seasoned Toastmaster that I am, I figured I was immune from any such requests. Silly me. When will I learn?
   We were given a choice of two topics. One was Memorial Day. The other topic was family. C seized on the first topic right way. I had no problem with this. Mr. Warren, my late father-in-law, had fought in World War II. It was only right that C give a talk on this subject.
  That left the subject of family to me. I joked that it was funny to ask a woman who has no children of her own about family. Brother Douglas, who asked us to speak, just smiled.
  What he didn't realize is that I had been thinking about family and what a family is for a very long time. When I first started working as a pharmacist, I noticed that most of the evening shifts, the days before holidays and those holiday where the pharmacy was open were days I was assigned to work. I once mused out loud about this and someone told me why. It was because I didn't have a family and so I was free to work those shifts so that my coworkers with families could spend time with them. I was a bit irked, but it wasn't that much of an inconvenience. I kept my mouth shut. Many years later I had asked for family leave time to help take care of my Dad who was recovering from cancer surgery. It was denied. I was told that leave time was only granted to parents who needed to care for sick children. I used my vacation time instead. Another time my mother had joined a health club that I belonged to as well. I went to the membership office and asked for the family discount. I was told it didn't apply to me. I asked why. I was told that as a single person I had no family. I explained that my mother had joined, we lived at the same address. Did they need my birth certificate to prove that we were related?
   The Bible story of the Good Samaritan is the answer to the question, who is my neighbor? I felt a kinship to the person who asked that question except mine was, who is my family? The answer would seem obvious. I have parents and siblings, grandparents, aunts uncles and cousins. Yet I had been told on three different occasions that I have no family.
  About ten years ago C and I were married. This now meant that I had a family. Right? Well, I sort of had a family. I gained stepchildren in the marriage and a grandchild. Yet, in the eyes of some people, I didn't really have a family. I was just an appendage to one. I shelved the question as being unimportant.
  Two years after our wedding we got into a large family disagreement. I found myself disowned. The question of who was my family drifted into my head again. The people who I considered to be my family were now out of my life. I felt like C and I had been orphaned and abandoned.
  Who is my family? Maybe the answer to the question was C and the stepchildren. It felt odd though. I liked the thought of having a sister and a brother. I liked the idea of having an older woman that I could talk to and learn from. I missed having a grandmother.
   Who is my family? I knew I should have been thankful for what I have. There are many out there who don't have as much. Still I wished I had some of the relationships I saw around me. Sisters going out for lunch. Families celebrating special occasions together. Helping each other out when needed.
   I noticed something interesting start to happen. I became close friends with two women from Toastmasters. We had missionaries visit our home nearly every week. I got better acquainted with a woman from church. The void that I felt was starting to fill. The family that I thought I had lost was forming around me. I befriended an elderly woman that I could help. I have sisters, brothers and a grandmother. I have an older woman I can look to for advice. I have stepdaughters who value my opinion and look to me as someone to help them.
   My family was starting to form itself. It doesn't matter that none of them have any biological attachment. It doesn't matter that one of my brothers is old enough to be my... uncle.... It doesn't matter that one of my sisters lives far away in North Carolina. What matters is that we care about each other. We are there for each other. We love each other.
   The answer to the question, who is my family, is much the same as the answer given to the one who asked, who is my neighbor? The answer is anyone. Anyone in my community, anyone in my church anyone who needs me. They are all my family.