I spent this long holiday weekend at Hidden Valley with M and his family. His cousin was marrying her high school sweetheart, and it was an occasion for his whole family to get together to celebrate. M’s parents are both one of eight children. That’s right, eight. Crazy eight. I was a little bit nervous about spending the whole weekend with his family, especially spending three nights under one roof with his parents, brother and two sisters. I love them dearly, but they all are very intense personalities—and that doesn’t even include the aunts. It’s such a striking difference from my small family of four who, for the most part, get along really well, are fairly even-tempered and enjoy the same types of activities that don’t include smoking cigars or finishing every bottle of liquor in the cabinet. (Ok, sometimes finishing every bottle of liquor in the cabinet.)
So my patience was wearing a little thin by the time we got the reception. The bride was beautiful and the country scenery was a lovely setting for a wedding, especially the wide back patio that allowed some outdoor space for getting away from the dance floor. However, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that if I ever get lucky enough to marry M, this is what my wedding will be like. Underage cousins drinking from flasks under the table, crude uncles making unsightly remarks ladies presence, little kids running around during the toast. Ugh.
This was stressing me out for most of the weekend. I felt like I couldn’t fully enjoy the presence of his family when I was constantly wondering if all the shouting and swearing and arguing was going to be my life for the rest of my life. It was completely overwhelming.
I had a lot of time to think on my drive back to Virginia today. I was thinking about my future and my relationship with M. We live four hours apart, and it’s sometimes so exhausting to put in the effort every day to make our phone calls energetic enough to make up the distance. Both of us struggle with not seeing each other very frequently and ensuring that our relationship doesn’t suffer because of the distance. But the drive got me thinking about how our long distance relationship forces us to prove to each other that we truly are willing to go the distance for each other—both literally and figuratively. We’re willing to give up weekends with our friends to spend an uninterrupted 48 hours together. We’re willing to spend eight of those 48 hours in the car driving in impossible D.C. traffic or horrible snowstorms to get to each other. We’re willing to give up our weeknight TV shows to talk to each other. We leave happy hours early, and we are forced to deal with hard situations on our own instead of leaning on each other like most couples.
All of these hardships made me think about how willingly M’s family made me part of their family. I don’t see them very often, and I know it’s really hard for M’s mom to let go of her oldest son. Regardless, they have included me in family picnics, birthdays, weddings and Sunday dinners from day one without any question. Aside from an awkward first meeting (that was really more M’s fault than anyone’s), they have welcomed me into their home like a fifth child and make every effort to accommodate me. They’re not afraid to argue in front of me, and they’ve introduced me to extended family like one of their own. All of M’s aunts know me by name and welcome me with hugs and kisses every time. That’s more than I can say for my family. My parents love M, but he has yet to meet any of my extended family, and he doesn’t always get the invite to our family outings.
So I’m learning to love the loudness, the bigness and the occasional inappropriateness of M’s crazy family. If I’m lucky enough to eventually marry into this family, I know that they will love me like a daughter unconditionally, even if the wedding has a few awkward moments. That’s really all we can ask for, right? A big family, even a big crazy family, means a lot of love and a lot of people to lean on. All of us can use more of that, that’s for sure.
To always accepting love,
Lia
PS—If M saw all this crazy talk about weddings, he would freak. That’s for sure! J
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