Four families. Three cakes and three embarrassing happy birthday serenades. Two days. One birthday.
My life isn’t completely lived in a suitcase; I don’t tour or travel as a career. I just move around a lot. I don’t have a home—I’ve got four. Instead of feeling lonely like a homeless person, it makes me feel split in too many directions. And tired…and so very loved.
My mom ordered a cake from the school. I was told they’re huge, so I invited a bunch of kids to eat it with me in my dorm’s basement. We were about to dig in, until the dorm’s cleaning lady reminded them that they were supposed to sing happy birthday to me. I shouldn't have offered her a piece. Ignoring my pleads, the friends who I didn't know last semester but have come to treat like siblings, inharmoniously sang the stupid song while I smiled at my feet. We played card games, like bull and spoons, which turned violent (my body was frequently found on poor Stacy) and listened to music on my laptop.
That evening my adopted dad, the man who I babysit for, picked me up on his way home from work. He gave me the lowdown on everything that I had missed with my adopted family while I was busy studying my butt off; his wife, Jen, wrecked the car and caused $1800 of damage and is seeing a therapist for her germ related OCD. She likes to keep life interesting. Katie, my eight year old baby “sister”, grew out of her car seat and still has her life’s goal set on making everyone crazy. Ten year old Amanda is Harry Potter obsessed and wrote a paper that sounded like it came from a high school student, because she takes after her big sister. J And Dave still spends his weekend nights killing zombies online.
I always love coming home to their house. I’m greeted first by the howling beagle, who runs around, jumping all over the furniture as fast as a bullet, and finally calms down enough to tell me she loves me by laying on my feet and wriggling her whole body and whimpering for my attention. I never feel so loved as when I’m greeted by my beagle. Then the girls jump on me and expect me to carry them around even though they’ve gained ten pounds since I last saw them, and tell me every new toy they’ve gotten and every hobby they’ve picked up in the past year, as if I’ve been gone for that long…even thought it seems like I've been gone longer.
They bought me my own little chocolate cake from the bakery--little as in big enough for four of me. I’m still eating it as I write this, two days later. They sang happy birthday in their high pitched voices and I smiled at my cake.
That night, I made my bed on their overstuffed couch. Katie turned on the Disney channel and crawled next to me to let me hold her. We fell asleep like that, my sister and I—because what else would she be called? I’ve known her since she had bed wetting issues and I taught her the alphabet. Relatives are related. Family is a thing that is formed.
I was dropped off at my mother’s house the next morning, when she was baking her famous banana chocolate chip muffins. She was on the way to the basement with her laundry basket as she told me not to dump the whole bag of chocolate chips in the bowl. “Who are they for?” I asked. She smiled widely and said in her I-feel-cool-because-I-know-I’m-being-an-awesome-mom voice, “Wellllll…they’re for you to take to college with youuu...because I looooove youuuu…” and walked towards me with open arms. I spun around and raced off towards the kitchen, saying “Then they’re ALL goin in!!!!”
Birthdays aren’t supposed to be about spoiling yourself—they’re about spending a day surrounded by the people who you would give this day up for. My dad, my stepsister Val and our best friend Mia, spent the day being themselves and reminding me why I am who I am—because they wouldn’t want me any other way. We took a million pictures and told all of our inside jokes and said "that's why we love you!" after we did something stupid, to let each other know we're accepted for who we are, flaws and all.
I spend my time at college chiseling away at my sanity, trying to become someone I think I should be and trying to obtain a knowledge I think will get me there. When I go to my other homes, all three of them, I remember why I've made my fourth, away from them.
I spend my time at college chiseling away at my sanity, trying to become someone I think I should be and trying to obtain a knowledge I think will get me there. When I go to my other homes, all three of them, I remember why I've made my fourth, away from them.
Magnificent last line, Rachel. The first lines are equally good. I can't wait to read more.
ReplyDeleteI like that you separate your 'families'. i feel like i do that too! i keep school and family separate because it helps to keep me sane as well.
ReplyDeleteI think most college students can relate to your blog, Rachel. I know that I certainly feel split three ways: Homer City home, Waynesburg home, and Madison home. Each place I don't quite feel as though I belong, for I dread going home to the family that raised me, I feel isolated at school, and I haven't been in Madison, Indiana long enough to completely adapt. I greatly enjoyed reading this!
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed reading your blogs, even the ones that worked on my anxiety and grief. I like the organization you have when recounting the events of your life. The things you choose to include progress the story and also have a distinct mood. I find the overall impact of your writing very strong emotionally. I kept reading without really meaning too.
ReplyDeleteAh, figuring out who we are. Taking our desires and effecting them in our actions, adding to our character, qualities we hold as valuable as well as mending and accepting the broken parts of our being that we may dislike. Who we want to be and who we are. I connected with your last blog most of all, especially concerning family bonds. The Disney channel and banana chocolate chip muffin scenes got to me as well. I enjoy and like your sense of authenticity in determining who you want to be. You stay true to your family ties and are so accepting of yourself and family. I tend to be critical of myself more than anyone but my family and friends, actually just about everyone else, get the overflow. Perfection is not mine to attain in this life, so I have to lower my standards, not only for myself but the people I care about. Realizing these things are important though and I think you have helped me come to see/understand some things a little better. I think your compassion is seeping through your writing a little on to mine haha. Thanks for writing these blogs though, I really have enjoyed them.
I really loved it when you said, "Relatives are related. Family is a thing that is formed." Those two sentences just really stuck out to me. It is so true, and you did a excellent and concise job of stating your point. Also, I really like the strong voice that I hear in your writing. I really enjoyed reading your blogs.
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