My "Other" Family

Last month was my turn to select a book for my book club. My lifelong girlfriend Elissa had recommended the book Saving CeeCee Honeycutt to me a while back. So I went on Amazon.com to scope out the storyline. At the bottom of the synopsis was the customers who bought this also bought that section. There was a book listed called The Kitchen House that caught my eye. And so I clicked on it to see what it was about.

The Kitchen House was the story of Lavinia, a white indentured 8 year old Irish girl. She is sent to live in the slave quarters of a Virginia plantation in the late 1700’s. And it is there that she found her new family. The slaves took her in as their own.

When my parents informed me that they had purchased our family a house in Dobbs Ferry I was not thrilled. I was to start seventh grade in a new school. The problem was that I had just barely assimilated into the school I was in—Christ the King--in which I had enrolled 2 years before. I rolled my eyes up at the prospect of beginning the fitting in process all over again.

And when my father came home to tell me that he had met a nice guy—named Renny-- and that he had a daughter named Elissa, who was my age, lived up the road from our new house,  and was enrolled in Sacred Heart School—the same one as I—skepticism remained. My father had no concept of what it was like to be a 12 year old girl. Making friends was not as easy as putting together two pubescent girls of the same age.

But to my surprise my friendship with Elissa was instantaneous. She was a fellow soulmate. We had everything in common. And if that wasn’t special enough —her entire family adopted me as their own. I was invited to family gatherings. I went to “Aunt” Anita’s pool club and for walks to the beach by “Aunt” Anna May’s house in Greenwich. My friendship with Elissa effectively doubled my family.

And as time progressed I attended my “cousin” Danielle’s first wedding. I went to “cousin” Debbie’s baby shower for the twins. And at that baby shower a photo was taken with four big bellies—“cousins” Suzie, MaryAnn, Debbie and me. I celebrated “Grandpa” Conese’s birthday by Uncle Gene’s pool and my “parents’” Renny and Mary’s 50^th anniversary. I went to my “sister” Nina’s surprise birthday party and Kelsey’s baptism. I celebrated the triumphs and was sorrowful at the losses. 

And this past weekend when I was in Fort Lauderdale I had dinner with my “cousins’” Suzie and Peter. I was thrilled to learn they were to become grandparents. It was so wonderful to share time and exciting news with “family.”

And after we kissed goodbye (twice---we are of course Italians) and I got into my car I felt melancholy. I was homesick. As happy as I was to have seen them I was sad that day to day life made “family” visits so infrequent. I forgot how much I missed everyone and how very much they meant to me.

And just like Lavinia in The Kitchen House I learned that family is all about the connections you make—it isn’t necessarily about bloodlines. Family is about who loves you, and who you love. And even when time and physical location separate you, family is always with you—in your heart—keeping you company. And when you are sad all you have to do is recall the memories—or in my case—write about them. Because fortunately the heart has no need for time or distance—it allows love to be summoned up in an instant.