Instant Family, Just Add Water

I came to a strange realization over the holidays: I actually like my family.

Of course, I always loved them. Despite all the dysfunction, all the conflict and all the craziness. All of it. But I was always frustrated over some part of the pie — frustrated about why my mother treats my sister like a black sheep and why she treats my older brother like God on Earth. I always ended up somewhere in the middle, and lucky for me, more often than not I fell towards the Brother end of the scale.
The designation I received began in high school, but I did not begin to notice my mother’s attention until college. It was then I became The Jock, a varsity athlete at a Division I school, and my mother seemed to transform as quickly as I did.
My body grew lean and muscular; my mother grew attentive and loving. My rowing and racing skills improved, while my mother made cakes for my team to celebrate victories.
It was a strange adjustment for me, as my mother had been distant in the past to say the least. Granted she had every reason to hold on to the depression that I believe defined my formative years for her: no partner, no money, and three children who desperately wanted her undivided attention. But nonetheless, this newfound interest in me and my activities was a bit strange and although I feel guilty saying it, it was a bit contrived.
My friends during college loved my mom, while I struggled to discover whether her participation in my life was genuine. Then I felt guilty about not trusting her presence, and questioning her methods. And so, the cycle continued for years.

But now that the youngest (that would be me) is all grown up, the family seems to have started a new phase in our collective life. Somewhere along the road, we have all become adults. At some point, we stopped being a family because we had to and started being one because we wanted to.

Relationships are funny and complicated beasts. But lucky for me, I think this one is working out.