two bottles.

last night i sat surrounded by family, playing our family card game over and over, listening to each other trash-talk, tease, torture each other. my brother yelled at me, hard. my mother broke down in tears as she talked to us about the lack of religion or spirituality in our children's lives. my husband tried to be the voice of reason. my sister-in-law kept filling our wine glasses in solidarity. we laughed and argued.

these people belong to me, yet i don't know them at all. they are my relations, my people, but they don't know me either. i remain a mystery to them, an annoying afterthought, the one who makes chocolate mousse with tofu and doesn't tell anyone.

they don't get me.

and i know they are pretty sure that i don't get them.

this institution called family remains a source of my greatest joy and deepest angst. how can i be a part of this group? how can i disavow myself of them?

how could i live without these people?

coming to the end of our trip, where everyone's ends are frayed and fried. i take my time, take my breaths, and hope for the best.

this family--the ones i have no choice about--this family makes me work hard. and work less. and give over, and give up, and move on.

i am grateful for each of them. each of their crazy-ass, issue-laden, whack-job selves.

my only hope is that, in their own way, they are each grateful for me, as well.