Family of Choice

Boston was talking the other day about drawing a family tree. We joked that if he included all my husbands and step-children, he would need another nine pages.

Years ago (1983, to be exact), after finding my birthmother and having her ask me never to contact her again, I began researching my genealogy. The thrill of finding actual relations, even though only on paper, was unsurpassed in my lifetime of experiences.

Through some questions I had posted to a genealogical research site in the early 1990s, I found a distant cousin, who began corresponding with me. We had begun making plans to meet in the fall of 1993; in the summer of 1993 I received an email from his son telling me he had died. What a kick in the gut!

Three years later I received a handwritten letter from his younger brother, who lived in Wales. I don't remember if I ever answered the letter, as John had just received his diagnosis of metastatic prostate cancer, and our lives were in utter chaos.

This week I was cleaning out a box and found the letter again. Hoping the power of the Internet would again be my friend, I began searching for this cousin, only to learn he was killed in a train accident a year ago. Double kick in the gut! (And how interesting, through further Internet searching, to learn that his middle name was Ridley, the same as my granddaughter's first name!) (And also interesting that all four of his children were adopted, and that he had written about and advocated for adoption and adoptees in his life!)

Earlier this week, one of the Jazzman's cousins added me to his list of family members on Facebook. I have not met a person who is related to the Jazzman (and I've met hundreds!) who has not been warm and welcoming and loving to me. He has an astonishing family!

That incident led me to post on Facebook that we should be able to list the members of our Family of Choice.

Who would mine be? Of course my sons would be there, but not their father or his followers-to-the-position. My daughter-in-law and grandchildren would be there. The Jazzman and his large family, and his circle of friends—who have been equally warm and welcoming and loving to me since we first met. Abigail and PianoLady would be on the list as my sisters. And others - dear friends whom I have met and retained relationships with over miles and years and life circumstances.

Aren't we lucky that we don't have to be confined to familial relationships with our family-of-blood or family-of-law?