My Family Is Not
My family has not been my sister, Linda, from whom I’ve heard word zero for months, despite my email updates and her easy access to this blog.
My family has not been my brother, David, who popped into my life briefly following my diagnosis, who is, apparently, able to send me good vibes but has not bothered to follow this blog or to correspond.
My family is not my parents, Keith and Josie, whose only reaction to my journey has been self-pity, blame, hostility and poison.
My family has not been Mark’s sister, Barb, whose correspondence has been a total of two terse email responses to two of my email updates in the early days of this journey.
My Family Is
My family is Mark, Lucy, Bayla, Mark’s parents, Rhoda and Bert, my cousin Kelly and her family, my Aunt Barb and Uncle Wilf, our dear friends near and far, those of you out there with whom we’ve shared friendship, support, laughs, ups and downs before and during this challenge, and those with whom warm friendships have recently started to sprout.
And with whom we’ll continue to share friendship, support, laughs, ups and downs for years to come.
It’s been a painful learning but I am grateful for the realization and the healing which I hope will follow it.
And I am grateful for my family.